A Very Long Morning

by | Sep 13, 2010 | 0 comments

This morning consisted of poop on the rug and some in the potty, our Monday walk by the river, and a bumped head after we got back home- which required the “cat” ice pack and a yellow lollipop in order to get A. to sit still while I iced it.  I am tired.

When we headed towards the river, I decided to walk down the long pier where the ferry to the city pulls in, which is also where we’d taken that ship on June 26th.  The one where we came back to find Dan waving at us in his “Be the Reds” T-shirt.  It’s one of the memories I know Audrey still has so I try to reinforce it.  Today I thought walking to the dock would be a good way to do that, plus it was just such a pretty day.  Audrey remembered the place and I sat on the metal bench there for a few minutes on the swaying dock letting it rock me like a baby.   I looked at the river and at the city that always looks like some kind of mirage and reminds me of Oz and spoke to you.  “I miss you so much.  I think of you every second of every day.  I love you so much.”  I wept as I walked back down the long pier hearing the sounds of metal clinking against water that you hear there.

And then I saw my first butterfly.

Audrey brought her elephant and her own little stroller and pushed that for a while.  We ate lunch- her- macaroni and cheese and a new favorite- barbecue beans; I had a tuna melt at Whole Foods.  I asked her for a bo bo (kiss in Korean) and she shook her head no smiling.  So I told her I would have to steal one and I did.  She laughed and laughed and this game became the theme of our lunch there.

On the way back I saw four more butterflies.  One was black with a yellow stripe and very unusual looking.  He circled around us once before disappearing.  The rest were the orange monarchs.  I wanted to believe it was a sign, but I’m also pretty sure this is the time of the monarch migration to the south so that’s more likely.

Today when we headed toward our building, I was curious to see if Audrey would ask if Appa lived there again.  “Audrey house,” she said.  “Momma house,” she continued.  I waited.  “Appa died,” she said.  Usually I feel satisfaction when I know she is learning something I’ve tried to teach her- today I did not.  I told her that even though he can’t live here, he still loves her very, very much.  It sounds so sappy- the whole love is eternal thing- but when you lose someone you love that much- it is one of the few things you know is still true.  Dan- alive, dead, in heaven or not- loves Audrey- it is the truest thing I can tell her.

While sitting in her stroller, Audrey pointed to her heart and told me, “Appa, Audrey, heart.”  It took me a minute to figure out that was what she was saying.  I’m sure there’s a logical explanation- either I told her that when I was completely numb and out of it – or my mom did?  I have no recollection of either.  “Who told you that?” I asked but she just repeated it and pointed at her heart.


September 13, 2010


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