It’s been 3 months, that’s 91 days, since Payton was alive in our home. It feels like yesterday, yet it feels like a year at the same time. For 2190 hours I have missed him and wanted nothing more than to look into his eyes and tell him “I love you” and hear him say “I love you more”. Everyday I feel a little further from my sweet boy, yet I know I am closer everyday to being reunited with him in the kingdom of heaven.
There have been many moments that life feels stupid, pointless, and unappealing. I find myself trying to understand why this happened and how we’re supposed to be okay now. Our hearts are torn apart like shredded cheese. Even if you tried really really hard, you’d never get that cheese back in a block like it started out. You might get it somewhat put back together, but pieces would always fall off…that’s us.
The other kids seem to be doing alright. Wes and Jordan have summer jobs and friends to keep them busy, and don’t hang around us much. It’s hard having them gone so much and our house is more quiet now than it’s ever been. Maddi is here alone during the day (I’m here but working downstairs). She comes down and helps me a lot. She should have her little brother here to pick on her and play with her. Maddi and I have always had a special bond, but it has turned into more than that. She doesn’t know it but she’s my little rock.
Many people ask how Jason and I are doing as a couple. We are making it. It’s so difficult when you are both going through the same thing and you want to be comforted and to comfort them but you don’t want to ruin their moment if they are having a good moment. I can say from my experience that you don’t know the true pain of a man until you’ve watched your grown husband stand and sob in the shower, or while standing in front of a photo of your deceased child. One day, we had no kids here, we decided to go out for dinner at the bar. We sat in the parking lot of the bar and cried together for 20 minutes before I said “Ok, let’s put on our masks so we can go eat”. That’s how it is, we wear our masks pretty well most of the time, but the tears fall every single day. Jason and I are trying very hard to be “okay”. We work all week and surround ourselves with people we love on the weekends. I dread winter already, as I know it’s going to be even worse since we will be home a lot.
Many things that pertain to Payton around the house have yet to be done. Our bedroom needs a cleaning so badly, but I haven’t been able to touch anything in there. I sleep and dress in there and that’s all. His final moments were there, and memories of him are everywhere. There is a bag of gifts that he opened and barely played with the day before he took his last breath. His bags from the hospital 2 days before he passed, his tote of snacks from travelling, and his huge bag of vitamins are sitting around. I never even fully unpacked Florida. Every time I start to unpack anything, it’s crippling sobs and I cannot continue. God I miss him.
131,400 minutes ago there was a heartbeat in my son’s chest. Now his heart and body is in a box. I still have not fully accepted that he’s gone. I try to remember every little detail of his life. It’s so hard because it’s like there are 2 Paytons to remember; there’s the happy healthy one and there’s the still pretty happy, but scared and sick Payton who doesn’t look like Payton. I took a lot of photos but I wish I had taken more. I wish I had more of him.