There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were.

Dwight D. Eisenhower

Monday, March 29, 2010

I miss...(part 3)

I miss cleaning milk splatter off of the walls from him shaking his sippy cup too hard.

I miss calling him "buddy", "bud", "Marco Polo" and "Mark the Shark".

I miss hearing other people call him those names.

I miss hearing his sister Madison call him "Marky-Poo".

I miss feeling like I was a good parent.

I miss watching him run around in his pajama shorts with no shirt on and loving how easy it was to dress little boys.

I miss how he would practically lay on our cat to hug it and how the cat would so patiently wait until the "hug" was over.

I also miss how he would pull the cat's tail when he didn't think that we were watching...and still, the cat was ever so patient.

I miss sitting him on the kitchen counter to give him his medicine. He never argued.

I miss how he would run into the living room when he heard the Backyardigan's theme song on TV and how he would throw his arms up in the air and spin in circles...just like they did.

I miss watching him play on the church playground with his friends.

I miss watching him play on our playground with his sisters.

I miss washing him off with the garden hose when he was so muddy that he couldn't come inside.

I miss seeing his little black "crocks" in the shoe basket by the back door.

I miss playing peek a boo with him.

I miss the spots of eczema that he had on his ankles and the back of his knees that I had to doctor everyday.

I miss being able to think about swimming without feeling my chest tighten or being able to look at any swimming pool, lake, pond, puddle or bathtub full of water without imagining how he must have struggled in the water when he drowned.

I miss how he would walk through the church and throw open his arms and run to give people a hug.

I miss seeing him in all of our family pictures.

I miss feeling that life was so good.

I miss how he would smile and talk with his pacifier still in his mouth while trying to keep it from falling out.

I miss playing chase around the house while he squealed and laughed.

I miss giving him big, loud "raspberries" on his tummy.

I miss seeing him and being amazed at how much he looked like my brother.

I miss the part of me that died when he died.

1 comment:

  1. "I miss the part of me that died when he died."
    I hear you...