Day 1

Dear Doll-face,

I have spent what feels like eons thinking about what I could possibly write to you about the first 24 hours without you.  I came up with many ideas and I mostly hated all of them. Some were too sentimental, some where too sad, others were too cheery.  Then it came to me, I should just write down as many as I can remember.

It sort of broke my heart when you decided to pack that picture
 of the two of us from Michael and I's wedding day.

I'll have to start with an apology for not walking you through to security. As soon as we were half way down the escalator I was hysterical with tears. I couldn't watch you pass through those gates.  Leaving you with your escort was final enough, I knew if I watched you pass through a metal detector that I wouldn't be able to look at you with a smile.  I'm sorry for not being brave enough to not cry, but I'm even more sorry that I didn't have to courage to let you see the tears. You totally deserved to know that I love you so much it hurt to say goodbye.



Michael and I went through the gauntlet of emotions on the drive to my mom's house. We were weepy, then happy, then sad again, then hyper.  We both hated that we had even sort of argued in front of you that day.  Mostly we talked about weird dreams and what your father would say about your hair.  We talked about our future, and how we would some day leave Macomb.  We talked about what would happen if this blog went viral. Looking back I sort of hope it doesn't, there are just some things nobody but us needs to know about.

He misses wearing the cape, I can tell by how he looks
 at it when he doesn't  know we are watching.

Some things like how Saturday night during the thunderstorm we turned off all the lights and pretended the power went out. Do me a favor and don't forget to be a kid sometimes. It's good for you.

I busted my hump at work this Monday night.. It was almost too much, but I'm glad for it now, it kept the sadness at bay. Michael and I both have been doing a lot of talking since you left mostly about how we should do this, we should do that, yada yada yada. I know it's mostly to fill the silence that you normally would have completely filled with your random babble or teenager drama. It's funny to think that I don't have to worry about you bursting into our bedroom anytime soon.



It was awful to get home and see the disaster you left behind.  For once I wasn't mad though, this time I was just miserably depressed that it would be the last one I clean up for a while. I think the animals miss you already. It's like they know you aren't coming home for a while.

My favorite photos of you are the ones where you are
smiling for real..  they aren't always your prettiest smile,
but they are  the happiest looking.

I hope your flights were an adventure.  You only live once, you know. (YOLO!) Today everyone looked at Michael and I a little differently than they used to.  As my grandmother hugged me goodbye after lunch today she reminded me that it was okay to miss your children, and I didn't really understand why she of all people would have said that to me until later.  You really were mine for a while. I wanted to drive up to IMSA and physically assault your choir teacher the night she made you cry in front of everyone.  The nights you were sad I secretly hoped that ice cream or Oreos paired with hugs and silly stories would make it better.  I hated it when you were mad at me, I felt like I had betrayed you, and that we would never be close again.

You weren't mine though.  That's what I had to remember as I was miserable and thinking about all the things I was wishing to go home and tell you after work. You're not mine, and I can't keep you just because I think it's a good idea. You have a mother who already does all the things that I do for you, and more if you'd let her.

I think I'll stop here for tonight, I see you've already been on Facebook which makes me smile, and you just signed onto Skype (which makes me ecstatic but I won't message you for fear of being too clingy). Just remember that you'll be back when it's over, no need to say goodbye.

See you when you're older.