Oh How He Loved You

by | Aug 27, 2010 | 0 comments

I have thought of a few more things I remember your dad being super protective of Audrey- and before I forget them- I just wanted to write them down for you.  When you are thirteen or twenty or thirty even- they may sound silly because they’re all ways of protecting a one-year old, but I think you’ll get the idea, and maybe together we can imagine how they would’ve translated to your older years.

You and I went for a walk to Whole Foods after your nap today.  We walked by the river first and sat for a while.  We saw a helium balloon that must have escaped its owner and watched it floating higher and higher up into the clouds until we couldn’t see it anymore.  I thought maybe that was from your dad.  I am always looking for signs now.

We treated ourselves at Whole Foods to a decaf cafe-au-lait for me, and chocolate milk for you- also gummy bunnies and raspberries and blueberries for you.  While I was paying for these things, I was thinking about how it’s hard when you’re suffering this kind of loss and want to splurge on comfort things but you also find you suddenly have no income.  I’m not too worried though for some reason.

On the walk back, I was pushing the stroller towards the river, and I remembered how your dad was very concerned that I might lose my grip and you’d go rolling into the water- or rolling down a hill.  He wanted me to buy a strap that attached the stroller handle to my wrist just incase.

Later in the kitchen, I remembered how he didn’t even want you in the kitchen while I was cooking.  And he didn’t even want you in your high chair if I was frying anything up.  He was so afraid you might get spattered with hot grease even though you weren’t close to the stove.  He installed a safety gate in between the kitchen and living area, but we wound up always keeping it open because you got too upset if it was closed.

As I put your pajamas on tonight, I carefully pulled your fingers through the snug-fitting shirt sleeves.  I remember I was just tugging on them when he scolded me, “Um, not a good idea.  Sometimes she has a finger bent backwards in there, and if you just tug you’re going to break it.”  Well, he had a point so I am more careful now, pulling each finger out of the sleeve.

For the first day this week, it wasn’t raining, and was in fact a beautiful day.  When I asked you what color the sky was this morning, you said “boo!”  and then you said, “new?  boo?”  “Yes, it’s a new blue,” I said.  I liked that.


August 27, 2010


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