Tru Love.

 Now that Remington is here my new time with Truman is in the middle of the night, right after R falls back asleep from his feedings. I lay there and think about him. I listen to his brother breathing and my heart fills with an ache of massive gratitude and longing. I wish so much that he could have been able to breathe as well as R.
My poor baby.
I find myself sleeping less and less these days.
Juggling Remy's schedule and Truman's.
To quote a Still Standing Mag article I read not to long ago.... "I am the the exhausted mom meeting the grieving mom."
What's weird though... Is these days my grief energizes me, kind of.
I get way less sleep cradling Truman's memory and my aching heart. But when I'm awake I am squeezing every single slippery moment with Remington so tight- out of pure gratitude- that my exhaustion seems to just go away.
I wish that Truman got all of this, but he didn't and he doesn't. So i give Remy twice as much. He gets extra patience. Extra kisses. Extra everything.
And at times, on some days, that means an extra weepy momma too.

This doesn't go away.
This doesn't get easier.
Sorry.
It's so so complex.
His life and his death are still woven into every aspect of our lives and it's still so confusing.
It's still hard to make sense of and find the words.

I walk past his ashes every single day.
I kiss his urn and whisper I love you  whenever I think of it.
Yup, I just wrote that.
And it was hard for me to do.
Admitting to myself and you the reader that I get so wrapped up with my living son that he only gets an occasional kiss and a whisper "when I find the time" or his pictures help me to remember. The overwhelming heaviness and guilt that comes with that emotion, that realization, that sentence.... It's crushing.
It really hurts.
I realize it when I give him a moment.
I realize it now when I'm coming clean.
It fucking hurts, like make you howl out in pain, hurt.
I wish so much that he wasn't in that box.
I wish so much that he was a loud mouthed, boundary pushing, crazy little force to be reckoned with ripping through this house right now. Demanding attention and love and kisses.
Taking up physical space.
Instead of the shelf
and these 2 hours in the middle of the quiet night.
But I guess i just needed to write tonight and say that all this loving the now, gratitude, and living here on earth in the moment takes time away from me mentally being with him, where ever he is.
And I feel it.
And it's hard.
It creates a whole new level of missing.

-L