Yesterday was August 31st. I thought about it a week ago-ish and then I had my days all mixed up and they day went by wholly unnoticed. And then again all day today, I forgot all about it until tonight. I was just picking up Narnia to read to Little Man when the date crashed over my head like a ton of bricks. Along with a few extra bricks at the end for not remembering on the date.
Three years ago on August 31st, Jameson went in for a routine hernia surgery and our world changed forever. Because there was never anything routine about Jameson. And this routine surgery turned into a hospital stay, which turned into a PICU stay, which turned into the worst nightmare ever imaginable and in so many ways, it is still going on.
And now it is September first. And school is starting in two days for Little Man. And if Jameson were still here, he'd be going into kindergarten. Come Wednesday, I'm going to feel pretty damn sad when I think about how I should be packing two lunches. And in two weeks, my special little boy would be turning 6. He's been gone for almost as long as he was here.
There seems to be a fine line in this grieving between remembering and allowing myself to be sad and dwelling on the sadness. The dwelling is easy, but it totally sucks. Because it isn't Jameson, which is really what I want to be thinking about it. It's not looking at him, but looking at the black hole that is where he used to be. And that sucks. September is a hard month to remember but not dwell. But I'm going to try.
Tonight, though. I'm just tired. The days are long but the years are short. It is one of the most true statements I've ever heard about parenting. But enough of all of this. I'm going to bed and I'm going to think of my Jameson. Not his four months of dying or his death or his absence, but of him. And his laugh. And his painting eating. And the way he would stick his whole fist in the yogurt and giggle while the dogs licked his hands. And the way he danced. And the way he snuggled. And the way he made everyone around him love him just because.
I can't believe it's already been three years.