Today I found sand in a crevice of Lola's car seat. No doubt, remnants from our trip to the beach.
This month, the month of June, brings us to a very important landmark. You see, this is the month that marks Christian turning 22 months. This is the month we will have had Christian as he is now for longer than how he...was.
He was 11 months old at the time of his accident.
I was oddly looking forward to this threshold. As we approached it, I can say with confidence that I had already adjusted to Christian as he is now long ago. As such, this month was welcomed.
It was welcomed because it was just another step in moving forward. It was more symbolic than anything. This month is symbolic of us moving on. And one of the lessons that I've not only learned, but have also embraced is that life goes on. Plain and simple.
I think of Christian as he used to be, but not as often. Mostly because whether there had been an accident or not, he would still have been developmentally completely different anyway. And now that we've had him as he is now for the greater part of his life, it is easy to accept that this is Christian. We loved him then and we love him even more now. It's no longer about how he was born and what he was like prior to last summer. It's about how he is now and what he will be.
Do I still get sad when I see pictures of him maybe I haven't seen in a while? Oh, yeah. But it now seems like a long time ago. And it's not a profound sadness, accompanied by a dark feeling of sorrow and grief. It's no longer a sadness that brings tears or that takes up the better part of a day. It's now a dull ache that's only allowed to stay for a tiny bit. Then it's time to move on.
On Memorial Day we took the kids swimming. Lola hadn't been swimming for about two months and she's decided she now thinks the pool is so much fun. She splashed and laughed and it was fun to watch. And there was that dull ache - remembering Christian's first time in the pool and just how much he loved it. He, too, splashed and laughed. That's when the memories come - memories that are joyful and painful at the same time. The definition of bittersweet, I guess.
It's really like finding that sand in the crevice of Lola's car seat. Amazing memories, but kind of sad we aren't there. We smile, clean out the sand, and move along with our day.
So I guess this is a happy anniversary of sorts. We're celebrating Christian in the present as he is. But, more so, we're celebrating that life really does go on. And that's comforting.
Unicorn frappuccino for my unicorn
1 day ago