Sunday, February 3, 2013
Random Thoughts at 8 years
I am remarried now. Henry has two younger sisters. We are as close to a "traditional" American family as we are ever going to get. With us, all the time, is Renee. Her memory gives us strength and comforts us when we need it.
Occasionally, Henry will say something like, "My mom would have loved that." He is basing this on what I have told him, but it is usually accurate. While it pains me that he will never have his own memories, I take comfort in the fact that he has her genes. Someday, he will feel something or do something and it will match up perfectly with what he has been told about her. He will realize then that he knows a lot about his mom and always has. It will bring him a little closer to her.
When Renee passed away, one of the ugliest, most painful truths I had to accept was that my memories of her would fade. Our brains are not perfect recording devices. I have pictures, some video, some stories, but I don't have the more rich parts of "her". Her personality, her laugh, her glances, are all lost to time.
So, what I like to do, is try to imagine what Renee would do or say if she were still here, in our lives. For instance, the other day, we discovered an egg hidden in the playroom. Someone had sandwiched it between two pillows, but that had not protected it from some rough play and it had broken. We asked the kids who brought the egg into the playroom, but they all claimed innocence. It was a few minutes later, when Henry finally broke. "I confess! I did it!" he sobbed as he ran up to his room. I followed and asked him why he did it. "I was lonely one day and I just wanted to have a pet chicken."
In my head, I can see Renee finding the egg, rolling her eyes, and chuckling to herself at the silliness. She would probably tell Henry how eggs don't work like that, but she would also wonder at how his mind works. She would smile her smile, give him a hug, and vow never to let Henry get that lonely.
I miss her and I mourn for the life she would have had. She was a beautiful anomaly.
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