I'm not sure why I stopped putting words into print. I've composed letter after letter to you in my mind over the last few months, and yet, none of them materialized until now. Letter #5 is brought to you by pregnancy-induced insomnia.
You would've turned 55 last Friday. I went to the grave and brought you the same thing as last year: pink carnations and a pumpkin. And just like last year, I stood there crying like a small child. When comes the time when it gets easier?
Your first grandchild is due next week. When I was younger and imagined this time in my life, you were always ALWAYS there. My brain is still having trouble comprehending how I can be this close to experiencing something so wonderful without you by my side. The void you left has truly never felt so large.
Dad and I have been talking about ways to make sure my daughter knows about you. I think we could tell her a different story about you each day of her life and never paint a full picture.
Speaking of Dad, he sold the house a few months ago and moved. It was bittersweet. The new place is fine, but it's odd because now when I go visit him, I tell T that "I'm going to my dad's" instead of saying "I'm going home."
It's after midnight and I'm fighting the urge to organize or clean because I can hear T sleeping in the other room and I don't want to wake him. Being close to my due date has brought out the worst of my OCD tendencies, but my exhaustion and swelling ankles ground me to the couch a lot of the time.
Being on maternity leave and grounded to said couch leaves me a lot of time to read People.com to stay up on all the celebrity gossip we used to follow. I have, however, managed to clean up my TV habits and am no longer watching a lot of the crappy reality shows that used to dominate my time. Progress.
I was about to put a hashtag in front of the word progress up there, but then it occurred to me that you might not even know what hashtags are. That makes it feel like you've been gone a long time. It's been more than two-and-a-half years... so maybe you have.
Anyway, please keep an eye on things when I'm in the delivery room next week or the week after. I'm really hoping I'll sense you there and that even though you're millions of miles away, you'll help me through it. It only seems fair since her middle name will be in honor of you.