The house is quiet today. I dropped off the boys at their schools this morning - a third grader, a kindergartner, and a primary Montessori student. I made an impromptu stop at the grocery store on the way home to pick up some bread and fruit for school lunches for the rest of the week (and to delay the coming home to an empty house). I didn't have to say no to any requests for junk food or junky toys or referee any arguments over who got to ride in the cart or encourage anyone to stay close to me instead of running through the aisles like miniature crazy people. Funny how that's not as wonderful as it sounds. And now I'm home with the silence. I think I would enjoy it more if the silence was because ALL of the kids were at school. But the silence screams of the little girl NOT in first grade, the little girl who'd be at the same school as her big brother, the little girl who will never come home and tell me about her first day of the new school year.
I know and do not take for granted how lucky I am. This afternoon I will get to drive to two schools and pick up three boys and bring them home. I will get to hug them tight and tell them how proud I am of them and how much I missed them today while they were at school. I will get to hear about my baby's first day in a big boy class. I will get to learn about my rainbow's first day of kindergarten and what it's like to be the big kid of the class. I will get to listen to my sunshine (whose first day was mid-week last week) tell me about the start of his first full week of third grade. I know what a blessing it is to watch them grow and learn and set off to school and come back to share it with me.
But I don't get to pick them ALL up from school. My little girl will never come home from school to tell me about her day. I'll never get to hug her tight and tell her how proud of her I am and how much I missed her during the day. I won't ever get to brush her hair into pig-tails or tie a ribbon around a pony-tail for her. There's an entire class of kids whom I don't get to drive on field trips or take pictures of at class parties... an entire class of friends that don't realize she's not there because she never got to meet them. The missing of her and everything that should have been ACHES. It aches every day, and some days, like today, in the quiet of an empty house, my game-face disappears and the aching streams down my face and rocks me to my core.
Oh, sweet Elena, how I wish I would get to pick you up from school with your brothers! The passage of time only illuminates how much more we're missing with you, how much more we wanted to experience and share with you. I love you so much Elena, and I can't wait to hold you in Heaven where all this aching and missing won't matter any more, and I won't ever have to say good-bye or miss you again. And just for the record, I'm proud to get to be your momma, even if you're not here for me to tell you.
