Tonight when I returned from putting toothpaste on your toothbrush I found you strumming my guitar in the corner and singing quietly, “I wish…” I watched silently and then when you saw me you told me: “that’s an old song about appa.” When I asked you how it goes, you told me these lyrics, “I wish you were at a concert with all your old friends playing the cello.”
I really don’t know how you know all of this- it’s almost eery.
We sit and read after this and I hope you don’t notice the unevenness in my voice as I fight back tears and sobs.
Putting you to bed is always so difficult lately. Almost nightly now you ask me if I’m going to die.
Tonight you followed that with, “I’m angry because appa died.” I’ve worked really hard on teaching you how to express your emotions using words like this.
I ask you who you’re angry with and you say, “Appa, because he died.”
This hurts the most and I tell you through tears that appa didn’t mean to die- that it was accident and he would never want to leave us because he loves us so much.
Picturing your dad overhearing this, and knowing how much he adored you and hated to see you in any kind of pain- is what hurts me the most.
It’s been another long day.
We miss you appa.