Tuesday, May 15, 2012

moving along...not moving on...

We've started packing to move to our new apartment. Back to Westfield. Beautiful, lively Westfield. THE place for young families. The town I lived in my bachelorette apartment for 7 years, kissing frog after frog after frog...but loving every minute of it. Then the town where we had our first great apartment, newly engaged. And then still the town we had our first child in. Noah's only home. We moved out of Westfield  as soon as we found another apartment- 8 weeks after Noah died. I still have trouble driving past the park. The Trader Joe's. The macaroni and cheese place. The "everything". But this happy and happily imperfect apartment fell at our feet and it just felt right. We're moving back to where I roamed the streets with my son. Where he made friends with everyone who passed his stroller. We he reached out his hand to every doggie we passed. And to every prettty little girl...The town where he once yelled up at the big clock attached to the side of a downtown building ..."COCK!" . He hadn't mastered the letter "L" yet.
So I was going through bookshelves and found spiral notebooks. I flip through the pages mostly finding random "to do" lists...but I just found something that threw me back in time. It was a formula schedule for a babysitter. Most likely Cousin Kayla since we really didn't leave him with anyone else. On the bottom of the page it says:

-eating his fist
-eating fabric
-the fan in his bedroom
-laying in his jungle
-staring at girls

It may me smile. It made me cry. I'm enbracing the fact that its easier to find a treasure like this than it would've been 6 months ago. But I guess it depends on the day-maybe even on the moment.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

I used to love to sit at Barnes and Noble and read magazines...for hours. For a long time after Noah died, it all seemed so trivial. Not just the magazines-just everything. Last year for the annivesary of Noah's death ( all the parents in our club mark their days) we went to a place called Adamstown PA. It's subtitle is "The Antique Capitol of the World". I usually love all that but this was torturous. Surrounded by stuff...just stuff. I didn't care about stuff anymore. I hated stuff. Why was stuff still here and Noah wasn't? It's getting easier a bit. I'm making peace with the stuff that is here vs. my son who is not. The whole process seems to be in the stage called "meeting in the middle". My inner sad and my outer happy...I want my inner and outer to meet up for a cup of coffee, a cookie...maybe even share a turkey sandwich.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

rechartered territory?

It hit me last night that I may get to be a mommy again. Someone's mother. A child may look at me and breathe a sigh of relief...know I'll provide a snack...know I'll read them a book...know I'll cuddle on the couch...know I'll sing that song that makes them giggle. I just remembered how Hal would do "this little piggy" with Noah over and over and over again. Noah would practically stick his foot in Hal's face as his way of saying "again?". I loved seeing them together.  I loved our Sunday's together. We'd start planning our Sunday activity on Wednesday! We loved being just the three of us so much. I'd pack his diaper bag with sooo many extra outfits and snacks and books and toys. I'd lay out his clothes... the outfits that made me laugh. He had a pair of blue and yellow striped pajama pants that I would put on him during the day. They were happy looking and matched his always happy face. He loved to try to put his own socks and shoes on. He knew how to bring me a diaper from his room. It was so exciting to see him start to understand words. I miss him. I miss being his mommy. And I miss being anyone's mommy. It has to happen again...

Thursday, April 12, 2012

bubbling forth

So the literal translation of the hebrew word for 'prophet' means to "bubble forth". To spill over with water, cleansing, baptising, spreading truth and refreshing. Noah loved the bathtub. Sometimes 3 times a day we'd end up in the tub. "Do you want to go bubbles?" I'd ask. He'd turn like a soldier on one foot and run for the bathroom almost grunting "bubblebubblesbubbles!!!!!". He was fascinated by the water. He'd try to make it stop coming out-stopping and starting the faucet. I'd just watch, facinated by him, making sure he didn't turn it all the way to the left for HOT water.

Noah has left me "bubbling forth" like a prophet. I share what I feel and what truths I learn along the way. Sharing the dark thoughts with the revelations...

Monday, March 26, 2012

Pizza and tunafish...

Today is two years since my mother died. So in her memory, I splurged on what we called supper when we were little. Pizza always came with tunafish, preferably with iceberg lettuce leaves on the side. It was my job to make the tunafish while my father went to pick up the pizza from TwoTony's.