I keep a lot of photos in the windows of my china cabinet. When we first moved to the house, I thought about how nice it would be to keep our wedding china in there, all organized and pretty. I did for a while.
Then, when Karl died, I started putting pictures there. Four of the pictures are from Karl's memorial service. Tonight I was thinking about how strange it is going to be to me, and how strangely normal it will be to Elliot to go through photos, telling him what they are.
"Here's mommy and daddy at the hospital - look how tiny you were!"
"That's mommy and daddy at Ms. Barb's retirement party - daddy's stealing a kiss while you're distracted by your bottle."
"That's you and daddy in pawpaw's swimming pool."
"That's you and your Auntie V at daddy's funeral."
Seriously - how am I ever going to get used to telling him that? Maybe by the time he's able to understand it, I'll be used to telling myself, and I'll know how to tell him.
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It will probably never really be real to him. Just from the perspective of someone who heard my entire life that I am adopted. I know what the words mean-- and yet they mean nothing. He will feel the pain of his loss, and yet not. Does that make sense? It doesn't make me feel any better either.
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