I can't believe we are coming up on one year since we lost Quincy, Val and Kathy. It is so unreal that we have lived this long without them. When I think back to the last year of my life, I feel like it never happened. I feel like I have been checked out for the last 10 months. 10 months today. Did all of that really happen? Did we really bury a child and two parents? No, Quincy is at daycare. Val and Kathy are at home.
I was having an especially hard day last week. It was Thursday so I was home with Ryder. He was a doll that day, but everything else was making me sad. Ryder has gotten so cute and happy and I am really starting to enjoy him. He is becoming more childish and not so babyish and I am reminded of the things I love and miss about Quincy. I was in Ryder's room folding clothes and cleaning up, a room I am in daily and I kept noticing Qs' things. I see these things every day, but that day they were standing out, triggering so many memories and emotions. In that sweet little boys room we have a lot things that were Quincy's; her toys, her rocking horse, her lamp, her crib, her photos and shadowbox, things that are now to be owned and used by her brother. This is bittersweet for me. I want Quincy to play with those toys and rock on that horse.
It was the box of puzzles in the closet that hit me the hardest that day. Anyone that knew Quincy knows how much she loved puzzles. We played puzzles every day. I stared at that red box for a long long time, writhing inside. My heart ached. When I get in these moments where I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, when I am so consumed by sadness, I have to push the sad thoughts out of my head. I have to shift my focus, otherwise I am crippled by sorrow and it's impossible to function. I moved on with my chores, trying to shift. I was changing Ryder's bed sheet and my mind became consumed again with Quincy as I was daydreaming about her in that crib such a very short time ago. (which seems like an eternity) As I was tucking and tightening the sheet I felt something. A little lump. I put my hand up in the sheet and pulled out a dingy dirty little sock. Quincy's sock. How did it get there? A week after the funeral I pulled her bed apart and washed everything. I have washed Ryder's sheets multiple times. How did that little sock get there??? My entire body was burning. The feeling in that room was so overwhelming. I have never been so grateful for a dirty sock. I broke down. I sobbed for my darling little Quincy. I cried for a long time, harder than I have let myself in a while.