Diapers

I finally got mad last night, Neil.  While everyone else has told me they've had overwhelming feelings of anger towards you, I haven't. I just felt bad for you.  Until this weekend.  I had a shit weekend.

After we got home from the blacktop movie Friday night, I was laying in bed with the boys, helping them fall asleep. I was replaying my conversation with the doctor mom who is a pediatrician.  She asked how the kids were doing, I said good.  I said they're little kids, they ask questions and then they move on and play and then ask more questions.

She said yes, they'll process it in their own time. Every year, they'll be in a different space and have different feelings or questions.

And I started thinking about how every year, every month, for the rest of their lives they'll wonder why their dad had to die, they'll miss you, they'll process it and think about it.  Every time Cub Scouts has a father/son event, or their friends do something cool with their dads.

You son of a bitch.

What a burden for them.  They're so little, Neil, they don't need the weight of your troubles holding them down for the rest of their lives. G still wears a pull-up at night.

He calls it his diapee. You didn't even live long enough to see him out of diapers.

I'm packing today. I have to go to my training meeting in Dallas. The kids know, they're fine with it. They'll be staying with grandma and grandpa, they're happy about that.  Hell, they ask me every day if grandma can stay with us forever.

No, guys, grandma has to go home to her house. She lives with grandpa. 

I've lost weight. At first, it was because I couldn't eat. That first week, I seemed to survive on air and water. Then my appetite came back, but still the weight falls off. I think it's because I'm doing so much more than before. The kids, the dogs, the house, my job. It sucks.

You had lost so much weight. When I met you, you weighed thirty or forty pounds more than you did when you died. I look back at pictures of when C was a baby, five years ago, and you looked completely different. When did you start changing? When did the bricks start stacking too high, weighing you down?

I think you were changing when I got pregnant with G.

When did you stop wearing glasses? The pictures of you with C as a baby, you were wearing glasses. Why did you stop wearing them, when? And why didn't I notice it or why didn't we talk about it at the time? I only know that you didn't wear glasses when you died, and you hadn't for a long time. Years.

Why didn't I notice that?