It’s been a hard emotional week – thank you for your likes, your comments, and messages. The house feels different/emptier without him.
My oldest asked that I call his father to let him know, so I did. He wanted to have the bowls and eating table and Alex’s breeding papers. I told him that the table/dishes had plans already (the kids and I are going to make it into a little planter/memorial garden and I’ll get a plaque put on it), but I’d dig up the papers if he wanted them. I think it just is tacky. What the hell would he want the papers for? Bragging? So he can say, “this is the pure bred dog my ex wife took from me”?
I wish I could shout from the hill tops – “HE LEFT THE DAMN DOG WITH ME!” He told me he couldn’t take care of him. He didn’t even try. I had been all set to miss the dog then, 2 years ago. But like most things that he tells people about me, there is just no way to fight it, so I let it go. Let them think what they will about me. I know the truth. He left the dog like he left his kids. If people can’t see through that shit, well they are all the more fools.
The day after Alex died, Oliver woke up and with a sleepy smile on his face said to me, “Mumma, Mumma! I saw Alex in the stars!”
That same morning, Thomas came up and buried his face on my chest and cried. I held him and rocked him. Looking up at me he said, “I forgot. I went to get his morning cookies… I forgot.”. I held him until it passed.