I sat with 3 friends, and we listened, and shared and vented and supported. Like friends do. But I have to share more of this story. 2 friends were my peers. My age, with children my age, and involved with their families. One was our senor. By twice our age. At least. Her sweet grandchild played among our children laughing and running and swimming. She didn't talk a whole lot. She listened and smiled and nodded.
At one point there was a pause and one of said peers asked my senor friend what she thought of our venting.
She laughed!
"It sounds so much the same as when I was young with a family at home. The struggles, and frustrations,the children, the husband, and the friends," she smiled at us. I imagine she was reminiscing to a time 40 years ago, an afternoon in a backyard yard just like we were today. Children playing and friends with iced teas sitting in a circle.
It got me thinking and then us talking how things don't change. Sure, technology changes, fads come and go, but the heart of life, the things that make us tic, the things that make us laugh, and make us angry, and make us feel luved and hurt, they are the same. The are the same now, as they were 40 years ago, 400 years ago, and 4000 years ago. That is big! Gets one think'n.
About so many many things.
From my Friday memory, it was clear my Bob is gone.
It was strange. He was gone, and I thought it was OK. It had not been a surprise. And actually I was quit certain, when I got up that morning, it would be that day we say good-bye. But as the ritually of burying him, and talking with the wee ones kicked in, I must have I shut off how I felt. I kept saying "Its OK." And I thought it was. I thought I was feeling it all. I kept thinking how I missed him. Missed the bedtime cuddles, him purring to wake me in the morning, meowing for his supper, and laying on this growing belly.
It wasn't till Sunday night when the house was still and the family slept that the sadness washed over me. In waves. I flipped through the pics on my phone, and cried. Great big fat tears, that slid down the sides of my face, and when I rolled over, to the end of my nose and onto my pillow. I smothered it the best I could as Goran was sleeping, and I took shaky breaths to slow it all down. The feeling of sadness was there in the pit of my stomach, and I wanted nothing more then to lay my face in his soft side and hear him purr. And then, as I lay there in dark alone, longing to feel him against me right then, came the thought that always does, and everyone hates: I'll never feel his soft fur again. I will never hear him purr again. He will never meow for his supper again. He is gone. Forever.
Its not OK. This sucks.
Some may think its just a cat and to get over it. Maybe some would get over it quicker. Maybe they wouldn't grieve at all. But Bob was with me for 12 years. He was with me when I got married. He has laid on each of my pregnant belly's, and cuddled next to me while I nursed those tiny babies. He left my parents home with me and moved 5 more times. He was part of our family.
Klara still asks for "Bob Bob." Sigh.
My heart will heal.
As we do some new things,
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| how'd he know that's how I spell it? a hot drink at chapers, and wee ones play'n! |
and old things.
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| a good 5K with Duke |
As big girls suddenly look so much bigger.
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| glasses which had her singing, "I can see, I can see!" |
And wee girls say "Bluuuueeee cup!"
As I passed the 15 week mark and the 16 week mark comes closer, I feel this wee tiny babe kicking more and more. Sometimes I'm sitting still, and sometimes I stop in the middle of something to really see if that is what I think. Those flutters, tiny baby kicks. Every single time it makes me smile, and my heart turns to mush.
Baby Luv.
I have nick named this wee tiny one, Baby Luv. Before you roll your eyes, let me tell you why.
I have 4 wee ones, that are counting the weeks and days till they will meet this person. I have a hubby that rubs my belly and smiles when I tell him the baby is kicking. My heart is filled to the brim with joy and gratitude for this blessing. This wee tiny one, is coming into a home that is filled with so much luv for him or her, he or she
is our Baby Luv.
Tell me, are you still rolling your eyes?
For Baby Luv, who's the size of a navel orange this week.
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| we luv u Baby Luv! |
