I stared at you a lot today. I watched you swing on the cart at Home Depot, I stared at you after you fell asleep next to me on my bed at nap time. I watched you dance unself-conciously with your sister at the street festival. I let you have nachos for lunch and pizza for dinner and pick a treat at the store. I watched Anna too. I watched the intent way she watched the potter shape a bowl tonight, the way her face drooped when she told me that she never gets picked for anything and the way she put her arm around you and said, “I’ll take you Bubba,” when you needed to go to the bathroom at the movie theater.
You pushed her away and said, “I can do it myself Anna!” I even tried to memorize your scowl and Anna’s eye roll.
I stared and Josh and Daddy when they left for Idaho this morning and tried to memorize just how they looked when they got on the shuttle. Dad tired and a little stressed, Josh excited as Dad led him to the shuttle lugging his bag of at least 5 books. He glanced back at me and looked so old.
Anniversaries do that to you. They make you stop, they make you treasure, and they make you remember what you learned on that day.
**This picture was taken a couple of days before the accident. A completely normal night, running out of room on the bed.
One year ago this weekend my Max you were hit by a truck, driven by our dear friend.Continue Reading