You may not hear much from me this week. We have a boatload of depressing at our house.
Today, my mother would have been 64 - she died of cancer in 2003 - and my soon-to-be-adopted daughter is turning 6 months old in Guatemala without me. So today is my emo day, and I’m only glad that it’s not Mother’s Day as well. I won’t be able to stop thinking about them, about how wonderful a Buszi my mom was in the short year and a half when she was with her grandson, and how much she’s missing out on now and how amazing it would have been for JediBoy to have her in his life still. But, on that knife-twisting side, if she had not died we could not be adopting this baby because we received an inheritance from my mom that almost exactly covers the full cost of this adoption. Today, then, my heart is being torn in two. And I cannot stop hearing her singing When I’m 64. Will you still need me?
Emo day for my husband will be Thursday - the day when the scales tip and PisecoDad will have spent more time with his son than with his father (who died from complications due to juvenile diabetes when PisecoDad was 4 1/2). What makes the day particularly depressing is that Thursday is also his father’s birthday; he would have been 60. How fate worked that one out is beyond me. But PisecoDad - who takes all things fatherhood related especially hard - will at least take the day off of work to be with JediBoy.
We’re just trying to get through the week.
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