Ready Freddy

I have been avoiding this thing for so long. Well, almost exactly four years now. My husband is ready. He's been ready. I have not. He's the patient one, God bless his soul. I am not. I SO am not. He has brought it up several times these past years since Lucas died. I (probably horribly) ignore his statements and requests. Eagerly move on to something brighter and happier that I (think) can control. You know like washing the dishes, going to work, giving bath to the baby, helping the Oldest with homework, runing out the door to soccer, you know, other things. I can control. Other things I (think I) can control. Other things.

Watching videos of Lucas when he was alive.

Silence. I hear it. It's all quiet out there. Crickets chirping. Uh huh. Why is it that I often cry on not even so sad parts on Greys Anatomy? And my GOD when they ARE sad, forgetaboutit. Why is that? I find so much commonality with my life in that show and it's not because of all the swinging cafe doors drama the show literally emits with people slamming in and out of Merediths house and bed, it's none of that. It's all the emotional stuff they have going on. So so much. Dealing with love, death, family stuff, best friends, significant others, death, tragedies, laughter, and oh, did I mention death?

So, here's the deal. I think I am ready to watch the videos we took of him EXCEPT I am very afraid. I'm afraid to say it outloud. I'm afraid to say it to him. I'm afraid to actually go through with it. And I almost feel I want to watch them alone. And I know, I know, it's so unfair and selfish of me. I was not his only parent. Not even close. My husband, he deserves to have seen them by now, he just quietly waits. In his quiet, patient, maddening, very loving way. You notice I use the word maddening a lot with him? Yes. He can be so very maddening. I believe it's what draws me to him; all the extra drama and whatnot. If I watch Lucas alive and happy and cooing and interacting, what will happen? It's a good question. I cannot say these things out loud without breaking down and becoming a crazy person. As the tears stream down my face right now, it's what drives the pure fear in me of letting go and letting it all out. Not once and for all, but just once. The for all part, I don't know, I have no idea if that will ever come, I just don't know the answer to that. If I see him alive and playful and happy? I'm ready, I think, but I cannot let my guard down to feel what I need to feel. Or say. Or think. I'm not afraid of crying, good Lord no. Jeez. I do that all the time. That's the easy part. I'm afraid of my emotions. I don't even want the Littlest and the Oldest to be awake, or even here when it happens. I don't. If it were not for this, this blog, for you computer people out there, letting me get this off my chest, well, I just don't know. I wouldn't be any semblance of normal that people might think I am now. I mean, I'm not. But they think I am. It's a good guise, the best rouse of them all.

Did you know that the Littlest can say Lucas' name perfectly? Can recognize him in a picture? Says his name bright as a sunny day on the way out of his room as we pass the hand and foot clay sculptures that were Lucas? We taught him those things. Odd? No. Perfectly normal, for us. The Littlest got his 18 month shots the other day. His pediatrican very kindly asked me (very kind given she'd never met him, she tip toed gently and I so appreciated it) if the Littlest could say his brothers' name. For a second, I wasn't sure what she meant, but I got it, and said that he could and used his name and the Littlest repeated it just like a little Mina bird. This made her smile. And that made me tear up. No crying, just meaningful thoughts hitting my heart. Her comment was "he's family, it's ok for him to say his name" and of course, I agree. I so totally agree.

Life has moved on; no? So ready or not, I should just take the plunge. Well, just chill for a minute ok, because, I'm thinking long and hard about jumping in, scrounging up the videos and sitting down with a blanket and a tissue or two (or four hundred). I don't know. I am thinking. Will I do the smart thing, the thing that is necessary or will I do the easy thing, the coasting along thing I've been doing so well till now?

With love-
Freddy.