Walking to daycare

The healer said that Max would come to me in a dream on Friday night and bring me something.  She told me to pay attention to what he was going to give me.  I thought a subliminal message was being planted that couldn't fail, but it is early Sunday morning he hasn't come yet, and I am going crazy.  I need to see him.  The last two days have been DARK.  I can't even write down where my mind has been because it is too dark to put on "paper".  I am unimaginably sad.  My whole body is cold with shivers and I keep thinking that there is NO WAY that I will make it.  Ted doesn't even really want to be around me.  He won't admit it but I know.  He did admit, however, that he HATES when I ask "why us?" or "why Maxie?".  He doesn't have answers so he wishes I would just STOP asking the questions.

It takes exactly 15 minutes to walk to daycare from our house and exactly 20 minutes for me to drive to my office which gave me plenty of time to do one of my favorite things.  I LOVED walking Max to daycare even though the sun did NOT cooperate.  I still mostly used his Graco snugride stroller in the mornings so that I could just "snap in" the carseat on the way home if I didn't have time to go home, park and walk back for him after work.  The good part about the snugride is that Max faced me on the walk, but that bad part about daycare is that it is West of our house, which means that the sun was behind me both on the way to daycare and on the way home.  On the way there, I would put down the visor and give him a toy (usually his monkey) and talk to him, even though I couldn't see him.  Whenever we would pass through the shadow of a tree or building, I would pull the visor up for a moment so I could glance at his beautiful face and smile at him.  "Maxie!!!!", I would look at him and say with a high pitch in my voice.  He would smile back at me.  The way home was a little more cooperative.  The sun was still behind me, setting in the West, but the angle made it possible for me to cast my own shadow on Max if I stood to the side of his stroller a little bit while walking.  On the way to daycare, we usually just would take Riverside Drive and pass all of the usual landmarks....Viva Fresh, Pickwick Bowl, The Riverside Cafe, the park and then finally arrive at daycare.  On the way home, I would take the residential street just South of Riverside Drive until the Condo complex and walk right down the middle of the street, usually having the whole thing to myself, only rarely having a car or horse pass us in the road.  30 minutes of baby and me time at least 2-3 times a week.  Pure bliss.
I have to pass daycare and all of these landmarks every single time I go West.  The only way around it is to go up Alameda and then I have to pass St. Joseph's, which is almost worse.  At least I can associate daycare with some of the honeymoon bliss I had.  Every time I drive by, I slow down, expecting to see Max in the front yard.  Ted slows down too.  Not sure if he is expecting the same.
Every single breath of every single day is complete torture.  I am in a hole that I can't see ever climbing out of but the idea of having to do this every day for the rest of my life it unbearable.  I am not going anywhere because I never want my parents to feel the pain for me that I feel for Maxie and I am not that selfish but I would give anything to take a really long nap.  I have always loved sleeping and have joked about wanting to invent a pill that would allow humans to hibernate for the winter.  Ted could take the dogs to the park and do yard work without having to see my grieving face.  My mom could wake up on the right side of the bed without having me show up to ruin the whole day.  My dad and stepmother could come over for dinner to reminisce about good times without sitting down to watch me cry.  If you think when you read this blog that you are reading the words of someone "strong", YOU ARE WRONG!  I am utterly hopeless, "in a sea of despair", that I don't know how to swim out of (and I AM a very strong swimmer).  It is 4:46 am.  I am going to try to go back to sleep and give Maxie another try to show up in my dream and give me something.

1 comment

Kimberly Bonheim Birbrower said...

Abby, I know nothing will make it better for you but please know that there are many people out here sending you prayers of strength during this terrible time. The thought of feeling better must be as awful as the thought of feeling this way forever. You will never be the same and you'll always carry Maxie in your heart, but you will one day feel some relief from this agony. One day Maxie will have siblings who will grow up healthy and happy, knowing Maxie as if he were there with them, and you will learn to find joy in life again. One foot in front of the other.