439 days….

I’m trying to keep us steady in this new normal…

This Clayton’s normal…

and there are some moments where I feel like we are OK, we three.

We joke around.

We talk about our day.

We read and laugh and play.

We do chores.

We have a routine that ensures we joke and laugh and read and clean and play….

….and I am the supreme leader with whom resistance is futile.

Wake UP.  Eats your breakfast. Dishes in the sink. Get dressed.  Dirty clothes in the hamper.  Brush your teeth. Do your hair.  Wash your face. Put your lunch in your bag.  Make sure you’ve got your homework and your hat.  Get in the car.  NOW. Walk to class.  “Goodbye Mummy, I love you, sweet dreams”.  Do your school work.  Eat the lunch I made for you.  No you cannot have tuckshop.  Meet me at 3pm.  Get in the car.  Lunch box on the counter when you get home.  Do your homework.  Play outside. Come in when it’s dark.  Have a bath.   Eat your dinner.  Tidy up your things. Brush your teeth.  Read to me.  Go to bed.

That’s it.  That’s out typical day.




Sometimes I feel so bad about having  to keep such a tight rein on the kids, but other times I can see the pay-offs.

We function.

We eat and we sleep well.

We wear clean clothes and eat healthy food  from clean plates.

and sometimes we do something interesting and fun….

… like wake up early to watch the planets align.

… like soccer training.

…like fishing and riding scooters and eating ice-creams at the beach.

but it’s all a pale comparison of the life we were supposed to have.

The life with you in it…. with you *physically* in it.

The life where the burden of being responsible for small people was shared between two.

The life where fun was spontaneous and the routine less rigid.

…and I mourn the loss of that life as well as the loss of you.

I miss you.

I love you.


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