Doing our “thing” each morning, like two little old people. Making sure everything looks nice, throwing away old flowers and checking to see if someone might have stopped by, if someone did, wondering who it was.
I am so grateful we have a spot that is a memorial to Emma. Some people have their child’s room or like us have a cemetery spot to go to. For me I feel closer to Emma here, for Paul it is at the house.
I am so sad the season is changing. I normally love the fall, with the cooler weather, excuse to wear boots and pretty jackets. This time it just means I am getting farther away from when Emma was here. Emma loved the fall as well, she loved pumpkin bread and soup, she loved jeans and jackets, she loved cool mornings and fall sports. How I wish I could hold her for just even a minute, to tell her again and again how much I love her and how proud I am of her. How all I ever wanted was a little girl named Emma, and how terribly, desperately I miss her.