This morning I woke up, after not really sleeping well last night. I had a dream about Quincy that spooked me - it felt so real, and I just couldn't seem to get back to sleep soundly after it.
All morning I felt a full 10 minutes behind, like a force was pressing against me, causing me to lose focus - not exactly accomplishing everything I wanted to on a Monday morning. It put me in a funk that I couldn't shake, and I couldn't figure out why.
In the afternoon, I sat down on the couch to have Quincy read to me, as he does every day after school. He read me a 41-page book on Meerkats, and decided that Meerkats are pretty gross little creatures. I chuckled at his "out-loud" discoveries of their worm and scorpion diets, and how they enjoy picking bugs off each other - and really just sat in awe at how much he has grown over the last year. I turned on my pre-recorded CBS This Morning, so I could catch up on the news of the day, and that's when I realized...
It's been exactly 6 months since you died. Six freakin' months. Some days it feels like longer. Some days it feels like yesterday. But I realized what that pressure was that kept holding me back today. It was my mind, imagining your embrace. I miss your hugs so much I can't stand it. You would just hold me, resting your chin atop my head, and our hearts would beat at the same time.
No one hugged like you do. It was a very special bear hug. I miss it. We all miss it.
I bought a special tequila at Costco last week. It's really smooth. You would have enjoyed it.
You would have enjoyed Beyonce's booty shaking at last night's Super Bowl Halftime Show. And the hot wings I made.
I miss hearing your voice. I would love more than anything to call you after every political debate, and just pick everything apart like we used to. You loved election season. So do I. It gets me so excited, and I wish you were here to talk to about it.
Paloma reminded me of you today. Her hair is out of control and totally awesome, and she made a face that you would make when you were really happy. And Quincy has your competitiveness down - he wants to win every game, and pouts a bit if he doesn't. He wants to perfect everything before he does it, just like you.
Friday nights are the hardest for Solon. Those were your nights. He said to tell you he loves and misses you, and can't wait to see you again.
We are still figuring out how to live in a world without you in it. I've been writing a lot. I don't cry every day anymore. I get on fine for several weeks, enjoying life and all the beauty that surrounds me here. And then there will be days like today, when I am laying on Paloma's bed, waiting for her to fall asleep, and the quiet night releases the tears that have been collecting since the last time. It's going to be like that for a while, I guess.
I don't really know how to end this letter to you, because I don't want it to end. So just know that I love you so much. All day. Every day.
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