About halfway through, both Patrick and I had a bittersweet moment. Teaching Rachael how to ride a bike was something we both had envisioned Patrick doing, but now he doesn't have the endurance for it. I feel like I have been living in an almost constant state of mourning for a long time now. There are so many little things that pop up and remind me of the baby that I don't have like finding burp rags while cleaning or Rachael telling strangers in the grocery store about her dead baby brother. And times like tonight when I end up doing what I imagined Patrick would when I dreamed of our life together. I have days and sometimes weeks that are ok, but then something sneaks up on me again.
This is hard, and I'm sorry for the downer, but I needed to say it. I'm not sure what else to do than what I'm doing: living and trying. It's not hard for me to believe that things will be ok, but it is hard to find hope.
On a related note, now that the ground is no longer frozen or muddy, they were able to place the marker on Gary's grave. I think it turned out beautiful.
