Next week

I wonder if next week will be the hard one-when we remember having to adjust to life without you. Those horrible four days at the hospital, sleepless nights, meeting with Todd and planning your funeral, cards packed in the mailbox every day, a fridge packed full of meals, setting up your banner in the yard, conversations with Mary Ledford and Jeanette Brenner, trips down that long hallway in the hospital to your room and back, ten billion text messages, Facebook messages, and emails to respond to. Picking out outfits for you and for us, seeing your empty room and not sure of leaving the door open or closed, picking out pictures for your video tribute and songs, going to my mom's and being afraid to go home at night, sleeping on the blow-up mattress with Hope and Carter in (what used to be) Hope's room. Not knowing where Hope and Carter were some days for hours on end, kissing your face goodbye, seeing you in the casket at the funeral home for the first time, going to Panera afterwards, the recognition at the football game after the Friday night visitation, the funeral service itself, singing those songs to you from my seat, getting things together for the vignettes, choosing pallbearers, picking out your casket spray at Flowerland, picking out a plot at Marble Park Cemetery. Having Rache drop Carter off at football practice that week and then going to pick him up and having no idea whatsoever of where he was at because practice had moved to behind Heritage. Going to Lillie Park for the first time and reading the amazing article about you in The Saline Post. Going to the cafeteria for lunch at the hospital and seeing your picture on the front page of the Sunday Ann Arbor News. Having ten billion flower arrangements in the front yard. The sign on the door that Mrs. Ledford made that basically said "Do Not Disturb," which I thought seemed mean initially but was so thankful for later. My lifelong friends Tracey and Margi being there for me then and still there for me now. Washing the last of your dirty clothes. Not wanting to touch anything in your room so it stayed the way you left it. Shopping for school supplies. Dear God, thank you for getting me through this. Love you sweet boy!