So, today was Luke's first day of school. It was rough for me because I know that Joe would have stayed home to see Luke off, I would have pictures of them together, etc. Luke doesn't say anything about daddy not being here for his first day, and I don't even know if he thinks about it like that. As I've said before, his loss and my loss are very different.
Last night I started to wonder how on earth I was going to bring Luke into the school and be strong enough to hold it together for him. I remembered what he said to me a while ago, which was "mommy that would be really awful if you died instead of daddy". I know what he meant. It does not mean that Luke doesn't love his dad or that it doesn't hurt that he's gone. What he was saying is that if I had died, his daily life would have been so much more impacted. I've been with this kid pretty much every day since he was born and he knows that. Maybe not to put directly into words, but he knows.
So I decided to listen to what Luke said and be happy that I have the opporunity to take my son to first grade. I kept saying to myself, "I am so grateful to be able to take Luke to first grade" and "Luke is so lucky to be able to have his mom take him to first grade". It gave me something to focus on so that I could drive there, park the car, walk him into school, shake hands with his teacher, give him a kiss and a smile and walk out the door without thinking about what we don't have. So that got me through.
Then I went to the cemetery and cried. I told Joe "I'm sorry you didn't have the chance to see your son go to first grade".