Your Mother's Home...

You could tell he believed it...if only for a moment...then he dismissed it.  I won't forget that look in his eyes...hopeful, stunned, panicked...all in a split second.  

Ben had been so patient in the morning as I mucked my way through.  Quiet, attentive, ready...that's how he is when he knows I'm being hit by Susan's death.  Plays with one eye on me...just waiting to hug, kiss or whisper "I love you." It was obvious we both needed a distraction from my mind.  So why not a trip to to the park...it might do us both some good to be distracted. 

So we went.  Only one obstacle as we approached.  A Grandfather and a little girl.  Not earth shattering 9 weeks ago, but scary and painful now.  The mind races...why does he get to be old and wrinkled...is he going to talk to us...is she going to mention her mom...is he going to ask about Ben's Mom...

So we played on our side, they on theirs...avoidance is a new tactic for me that I'm not proud of, but four year olds have a funny way of destroying even the best laid out plan.  The slide wasn't on our side.  All it took was a quick sprint and we were sharing space with Grand Pop.

He looked kind, so I knew what was next.  "Could use some sun.  Not as nice as yesterday."  I muttered back a reply and felt bad for thinking of this nice old man as some kind of land mine.  He meant no harm.  So we played and went on with our distraction. Then it went off...

Grandpa looked across the field and said, "You have to go...your Mother's home."  The little girl knew he was talking to her.  I knew.  Ben didn't.  For that fraction of a moment he thought Susan was back.  Standing on the top the playground he turned his head in the direction of home.  The wind blowing his hair as he looked for Sue.  And then he knew...and he scampered off...and my heart broke again for him...for her... 

I know what he felt...I have been touched by it too.  As I drive up to our house and see her car...for a moment...I feel it.  My neighbor stands two yards down with glasses on and her hair in a pony tail...and I almost believe it.  I wake up in the morning and feel one of the boys feet on my leg...and I hope for it.  But all these moments end quick...and sting...and taste of our new reality.

I'm so sorry this happened Benny...it's something I can't protect you from...I can't be the "Peanut Allergy Parent" and ban any mentions of "Moms" within 100 yards of you.  We are going to face this forever and always...I'm so sorry...nothing hurts more than seeing you and Luke understand the reality of this...I love you...