Sunday

I've been feeling on edge and sort of sick to my stomach the last few days. My brain keeps looping over and over all of the stuff I need to do and take care of - at work, at home, with the kids, with myself. I'm overwhelmed with things to do and in the back of my mind is this nagging feeling that something is just off - way off.  And something is.....it always will be.

I wish I could say we did something special on Sunday.  Released some butterflies or balloons or sat in contemplative meditation - acknowledging our gratitude that he is/was our son and will always be.  I wish I could say that we planted the tree we bought in his honor for our new house and that we came back inside and shared memories of our sweet boy.

Mostly it was a day like any other days around here. We juggled swim lessons, naps, playtime, potty training and meals. It was hot and humid and the kids and I holed up in our family room with the air conditioning reading books and playing with toys, while Ted sweat his face off in the backyard building a masterpiece playground with a fort, slide and swingset (it's awesome).

By the time everyone was down to sleep, we were too tired for any of the meaningful stuff.  We just drank some wine and ate some dinner and called it a day. But Max was with us throughout. Ted listened to his Maxie playlist while he worked outside, and I talked about Max with the kids (even though they don't understand) and showed them photos. There was a serious and somber tone all day (still is) between the two of us and with our families.  His absence was felt all day in a slightly more intense way than it is felt always (and it is felt always).

Tonight we plan to light our candle, plant our tree and say our prayers for Max.  As time goes on, this is what it looks like. No less heartbreaking than it was before but less startling somehow - more a part of everything we do.