I start the tub and help him out of his wet clothes. By the time he’s in the tub with his toys, his tears have long been forgotten, and just like that, he’s moved on with his day. I wish it were that easy to move on from everything.
I let Henry play in the bath while I strip his bed and start the wash. I look at the piles of pictures and mementos on my living room floor, feeling overwhelmed by it all. Part of me wants to just box it all up and forget about it, but I’m no longer the woman with her head in the sand. The new me is strong enough to handle this…
Once I have Henry dressed, he asks for some fruit snacks. He stands in the doorway to the living room with his snack and shakes his head.
“You made a mess, mommy.”
“I really did. Want to help me clean it up?”
He comes over to where I’m sitting amongst the mess and plops down on my lap. I cuddle him close for a moment, then start sorting through everything. I fill one of the boxes with things that can be donated and another with garbage. By the time I’m done, I have photo albums, a box full of cards that William gave me over the years, our wedding certificate, and a few other odds and ends.
“Mommy, who’s this?” Henry asks, holding up a picture of a very pregnant me and William.
My fucking heart breaks into a million pieces at his question. I feel like I’ve failed both my son and William. There should’ve been pictures all over the place so I could keep William’s memory alive for Henry, but my selfishness couldn't handle seeing him. My heartbreak was so all-encompassing that I just couldn’t.
I swallow back my sorrow and shame. It won’t do me any good to hold onto those feelings. It’s time to move forward.
“That’s your daddy,” I tell him.
“I don’t have a daddy,” he says, confused.
“Oh, buddy. Everyone has a daddy.”
“Where is he?”
How do you explain to a three-and-a-half-year-old that his daddy’s dead?
“He’s in heaven.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s where good people go when they die…”
“Like Maisy?” he asks.
Maisy was my parent’s dog that died a year ago. I’m surprised he remembers that, but I’m glad he does because it’ll make this conversation a little easier.
“Yeah. Like Maisy.”
He nods his head like it makes all the sense in the world. Henry starts going through the many photo albums of William and me. I tell him all about the pictures he points out. I swallow back my sadness and humor him as he asks a million questions. I'm completely wrung out when he’s finally bored with looking at the pictures.
I send him off to his room to play while I find a home on my shelves for the photo albums and other pictures. Tears track down my face as I tuck William’s wedding band into my jewelry box next to my wedding ring.
My phone dings with a text. I wipe away my tears and check it. Axel.
Hey, doll. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Don’t be late or I’ll have to punish you…
I set my phone down without responding. I just don’t have it in me. I should cancel tonight. My guilt over trying to look to the future is overwhelming me. It’s not fair to him that I’m torn up over my deceased husband.
Looking through everything just proved that I’m not over my grief. I might never be over it. Axel deserves so much more than I can give him. My heart is still broken into little pieces, and I just don’t know how much I have to offer.
Henry asks me to play a game, and I welcome the distraction. We play all the way up until dinner time, and I’m thankful for that. He helps me cook, which is another welcome distraction. It’s hard to wallow when you’ve got a smiling, happy kid to spend time with. I’m doing the dinner dishes when there’s a knock on the door.
I dry my hands off and answer it. Crap, I forgot to cancel the babysitter. Hell, I haven’t even canceled on Axel yet.
“Hey, Addy!” Marsha says, perky as always.
“I’m so sorry, Marsha. I meant to call. I’ve decided not to go out tonight.”