This is my minion.
Nose = Wii controller accident, it's hard being short.
He has become my other constant companion. He follows me through the house, he sits as close as he can while I’m at the computer or eating dinner, he cries when I leave the room and I must sit and watch Thomas & Dora & Caillou until I think my eyes are going to bleed. He wakes during the night and cries for me to lay down with him, forcing me to finagle myself besides him and his numerous stuffed animals.
I think maybe he’s like an animal that senses illness or impending death, only he senses sorrow and despair. He seems to appear when I’m feeling my lowest and quite frankly, it’s hard. It’s hard to watch him play and not think, David will never get to play with your trains. It’s hard to look at his clothes that he’s outgrowing and think I have no one to hand these down to.
It’s hard not to look at him and not think about David. Period.
To realize Zachary just reverted back to littlest brother status. That he’ll never have the honor of being a big brother. It just takes my breath away.
I’m sure he senses that the earth shifted. Does he sense the change in me as well? Or does he just know that his mama is back and he’s going to cling with all that he has?
He rambles on through-out the day Davy’s sick, he’ll get better. or That’s Davy’s, for when he comes home. I try to explain, but he has yet to grasp that Davy’s not coming home. And even though I know he doesn’t understand, it’s still painful to hear his innocent ramble.
So while it’s true that he still needs his mama, it’s not the same baby needs I was accustomed to. Maybe it’s not so much, time on my hands, as emptiness. A longing for the way things were 6 months ago, before that fateful call of hope.
*sigh*
He cried when I dropped him off at Preschool yesterday morning and was crying when I arrived. He didn’t want me to leave, which touches a raw nerve under normal circumstances, I think if the teacher hadn’t physically restrained him, I would’ve caved and brought him back home.
Apparently I was late picking him up – or so he thought. With teary eyes he ran to me in the hallway, glad I hadn’t forgotten him. I have to tread carefully with him and his clinginess. One, because I don’t want him to become fearful that I’ll leave him and not come back and two, while I covet all the hugs he so freely bestows upon me, I can’t let him become my enabler.
My excuse for doing absolutely nothing.
It would be so easy peasy to sit together day after day and not do anything but watch Caillou and munch our way through bags and bags of chips and snacks.
But really, what purpose would that serve?
