Tonight we went to test drive cars.
I'm tired of driving an empty van.
I don't drive the kids to school.
And I no longer have my special son to put in and out of the van.
And when Charlotte gets in and out she does everything herself.
She started opening the door herself just this last week.
I cannot believe how big she is getting!
And everyday, loading her in and out of the van reminds me she is my last at home.
My plan was to have a little 3 year old boy at home with me for two more years.
When the plans changed to be a special boy,
I accepted that I might some day load him on the special bus in his wheel chair.
But now I'm expecting a very empty van next year.
You are supposed to spoil the last child home.
You are supposed to go to McDonalds and the park everyday the year before kindergarten.
But even doing those things is becoming painful for me.
Because it's a reminder that Bradley is not with us.
I keep doing things to "fix" how I feel.
Play group. McDonald's dates.
And today we even seriously talked about getting rid of the van.
We went and test drove a 4 door car.
I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Part of me thinks I will somehow be free from the past if I change cars.
Part of me will miss Bradley's van that fit his wheelchair with the automatic doors.
Grief is so confusing and because I'm a woman of action, I'm totally trying new things everyday.
But nothing changes the feelings of the loss.
The emptiness is still here all around us.
Tonight I told Tom I understand that I will be able to raise Bradley again someday.
I get that I will see all of his firsts someday;
But what I don't understand is what about the kids and what they have lost?
What about Jacob not getting to take his nightly baths with his brother?
And all of the hours of play that Jacob is missing out on with his brother.
Do we get a do-over for that too?
And Tom said he didn't know how that would happen exactly,
but he knows Jacob will get those experiences too.
I have to hope for that.
I have to have faith that we will get it all made up to us.
Faith that those beautiful giggles of play will be heard someday.
I cannot wait to hear them.