Last year, Sandy was a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance of a birthday cake on Sarah’s birthday. This year, I made sure to ask her permission in advance. She said yes, and she also said that she was glad I had asked her first.
So last Saturday we ate chocolate cake, and thought about Sarah. I wasn’t going to sing “Happy Birthday,” but Nate knows you can’t eat the cake until you sing the song.
Our situation is hard for Sandy, sometimes. She is living in Sarah’s house, raising Sarah’s son, and in love with Sarah’s husband. Sandy celebrating Sarah’s birthday is weird, but at least you get cake.
When Sarah died, Nate was only two years old. He doesn’t remember her at all. There are a thousand stories I want to tell him about his mom; her favorite places, her favorite things. But Sandy is here now; she is here now, right now, sleeping next to me in our big warm bed. She has a thousand stories of her own to tell us, and the three of us have a thousand thousand new memories to make.
You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.
Love,
Me
It’s hard to put into words. I’m glad you take time to remember Sarah for Nate in a tangible way (and I know it’s not just Nate) and I hope someday he finds some sort of comforting memory of Sarah some day. And the thing is, I’m willing to be honest enough to admit it’s not really for Nate’s sake, or for Sarah’s – because it probably doesn’t matter to Sarah anymore – but for my own. It probably won’t matter to me someday, and it didn’t happen to me anyway, but I’m still here and just thinking about it makes it matter to me very much.
I’m sure that makes no sense at all.
Just found your blog. Wow. Sounds tough to navigate, but seems like you’re doing a great job.
I just found your blog too.
That is a tough spot to be in I imagine. I think it’s the best idea to allow her not to be forgotten even if Nate might not remember her.