Monday, March 7, 2011

It's funny the things that make me cry nowadays. Sean's birthday came and went without too many tears. I had so many people look at me with that good-natured worry that I see so frequently. I constantly tell them, "I miss him on February 20th and the 23th, why should I miss him more on the 27th?" It's really just another day in this journey.

This morning John's bus flew right by us even though we were standing dutifully in the driveway exactly where we should be. We have a long history with this driver. He yells at us a lot. One time Sean and I were standing too close to the end of the driveway so he wouldn't stop at our driveway then we were standing too far away from the road and he drove right by us because he didn't see us. A couple weeks ago he actually had the audacity to yell at John as he was fumbling with his backpack and snow pants because he was taking too long to get out of the car. Really, 10 more seconds would have killed you? So, to this morning. I could not believe my eyes as he barreled right by us.

So, what did I do? I flagged the next bus and they picked up my little boy and all was well. But, I was mad. And I sputtered all the way down the driveway and then the tears came. Sean would have understood. He would have listened to me as he shaved or got dressed for the day and then he would have hugged me and calmed me.

And that's what I missed about him today. I know that I could have called half a dozen people and they would have gladly lent me their ear. But, then I would have had to go into all those past times (so I wouldn't have sounded like a crazy person). With Sean I wouldn't have had to do that. He would have remembered and he would have gotten mad right along with me. Gosh, I really could not have had a better earthly friend than that man. And for that, through my anger and frustration, I am eternally grateful.

1 comment:

Tim and Sarah said...

Jen,

I know what you mean. Sean was one in a million. Wishing I could still the ache in your soul and bring him back...

Love you,

Sarah