Today at 1:08pm marked 11 weeks. Every week seems harder to process just how much time has gone by since you were last here with us. Boy has it been one of those Mondays, and one of those days in general where I feel like I am on the verge of tears or they are already escaping my eyes. It has been a complete, and I suppose even mix of highs and lows since 7am this morning. Your siblings went back to school today following their two-week spring break. I am not quite sure what the three weeks before that were, but I am thankful they are back to at least being occupied throughout the day with some sense of structure. The structure and routine are nice, but I feel like my head spends more time spinning around between what each of them needs and the things I am doing for work. Although, to be honest, my work input feels minimal these days, but the report writing seems to be perfectly timed for when your siblings need me.
I went to visit you today, you're "still in the ground" as I report to Aba when he asks how you are doing. Your grave has a copious amount of colorful rocks. So many people have been visiting you and bringing you rocks or sending me rocks to place by you, it fills me with such happiness and warmth that you are so loved and meaningful to others, but its an indescribable pain to not be able to actually put them in your hand or try to get you to look at them. I wonder which one would be your favorite. I really love them all, but each one evokes a different emotion when I hold it before placing it in its spot.
Yesterday I attempted to do some fun pictures of your siblings on the inflatable obstacle course we are renting in the backyard. Auntie A is attempting to touch them up, but my iPhone camera isn't exactly the best and photography isn't exactly my strength, but I think some of them came out cute. It was challenging to take the pictures without you, but the most difficult part is figuring out what to do with them. I can't bring myself to put up a picture without you in it, the thought alone rips my already broken heart further apart. It's these parts of the journey that feel impossible. Getting up and performing actions of life throughout the day are easy in comparison. There is an ability to be creative and not focus on your absence, but events and moments on cameras document and remind me of the unavoidable and undeniable obvious facts.
I am unsure if it has been you visiting us lately, but we have been having an abundance of hummingbirds flying around the house. I had no idea until the later part of last week that they held any significance for heaven. I have been wanting to honor you somehow by putting something outside in the front at home so I was on Etsy typing in various keywords and voila, hummingbirds and visitors from heaven popped up. As of this afternoon, there is now a beautiful glass wind chime in red, black, and blue with a hummingbird hanging under the front entrance. I also have a garden flag that I had customized with your name on its way. It still doesn't feel complete, but maybe that is just the ever-growing void and emptiness that I now carry without you here.
Your older siblings are currently rollerskating and playing hockey out front while Noam is running around stealing sticks and hitting pucks into the net. Aba has been busy at the warehouse with 3D prints so he isn't here right now, and I am sitting on the swing thinking how you would have loved the breeze this evening and I would be having to yell at Tzvi to not hit you with pucks and balls. I can see you sitting next to me in your Rifton or laying on the seat with me and just hanging out for a few more minutes before we would have to take you in so the mosquitos wouldn't get an easy feast. These moments rank up there in the worst part category, if only that list would stop growing.
Tomorrow brings us another day closer to another day further from you. Another day for me to learn something new about navigating this still relatively new world of grief. Another day of trying to figure out my place as your mother. Another day of wondering what you have been up to since you left us here. Another day of hoping and praying you are safe, healthy, having fun, and free from all of your suffering and pain you endured while here. Tomorrow will just simply be another day of me just trying to stay above water and missing you immensely. Until tomorrow.