A Dollar Bill and Five Years

On this day five years ago our precious son Carter took his final breaths on earth and passed on into Heaven. Today is a hard day. A very hard day. It is my least favorite day of the year! I miss my Carter so very much!

I've been thinking about Carter all weekend...

At 11pm on Friday evening I found myself in the garage going through a bin of Carter's old clothes. His bin of 3T/4T clothes. The last size of clothing Carter wore. I hadn't planned on going through this bin of clothes at this time, as I knew it would be emotional, especially so close to the anniversary of his passing. But we were recently given a bunch of hand-me-down clothing for Camden, that I washed and sorted and needed to pack away. And Jeremy was out chaperoning the high school prom. And the kids were in bed. And that's how I ended up in the garage going through Carter's clothes at 11pm on a Friday night!

As I was sorting through Carter's clothes, I picked up a pair of his shorts [my favorite brown cargo ones that Angela Shea took pics of him wearing] and felt a crinkle near the cargo pocket. I opened it up and found a crisp dollar bill, folded in half and stiff from going through the wash. Wow! These shorts had been washed and packed away five years ago. Carter had put this dollar bill in his pocket over five years ago, and I was just finding it now! It was quite an emotional surprise to find something that Carter did so many years ago. We had packed up Carter's bedroom just a few weeks after he passed away [which is much sooner than most grieving parents do], because we needed to get it ready for his sister Claira, who was born just 10 weeks after he died. And we moved out of the house that Carter lived in/died in just 10 months after he passed. So needless to say, I really didn't expect to ever come across something "new" that was left behind by Carter. It was a nice surprise. It made me laugh. And it made me cry. I didn't know what the heck to do with the dollar-- it's not like I was going to spend it, and framing it would just be weird, so I just folded it back up and stuck it back in the pocket of his shorts. I guess I'll find it again when Camden grows into that size.

So that was Friday.

Yesterday I was a complete mess. I was irritable and grumpy as I anticipated facing today [sometimes the anticipation is worse than the day itself]. My poor husband had to put up with my not-so-nice self. He prepared and served the kids all three meals, took the kids outside to play, and even mopped the floors (that embarrassingly hadn't been cleaned in a month!)-- all while I locked myself in our bedroom and grieved. I feel awful for being so grumpy yesterday. I hate that I acted that way! [Jeremy: I am so sorry! Thank you for giving me so much time to myself! I love you and appreciate you giving me that time to grieve.]

So that was yesterday.

Today Jeremy had to go to work, so I've had to pull myself together, take care of the kids and be productive- and that's a good thing. Allowing oneself to burrow down in the pit of grief for too long is not good. Especially when you have so many little ones that depend on you to take care of them! So, after getting the oldest two girls ready and off to school/preschool, I took the youngest three to the cemetery to spend some time at Carter's grave site. It's always interesting taking the twins (who are 3) there. "Where's Carter?" they ask me. "I thought you said we were going to visit Carter? Where is he?" I tell them the truth, that his body is buried under the ground and that his spirit is in Heaven, with a new body. The twins look at the ground of his grave and see the little golf hole we have set up there. "Maybe he's in that hole?" one says as she bends down and peers into the hole, looking for him. "Maybe Carter will come out and play with his toys [a few golf balls, trucks and sea shells that have been left there] after we leave?" another twin says. "I wish we could play with him!" they both say. "Me too girls, me too!" I tell them.

After that I took the kids to the playground and let them play for about an hour. There was nobody else there, and it was nice to have the place to ourselves. Carter had played on that playground. It was newly built just a few months before he passed away. I remember he peeled off one of the warning labels on this playground. What an odd memory.

After that we went to Lowes to pick up a new roll of "fake grass turf" [is that what it's called?] for Carter's grave. Several years ago we set up Carter's grave to look like a mini-putt hole, since he loved golf. And we were having trouble getting grass to grow on his grave, so this fake grass stuff works well. It's funny. And unconventional. And cheesy. And we like it. And Carter would've liked it. So anyways, the fake turf that we had placed down 4 1/2 years ago is quite worn and weathered now, so I bought a fresh roll. Jeremy took the older two girls to the cemetery after school to put the new turf down.

So that was today. 

I'm not sure why I shared all that, but I did. It feels good to share some memories and to share some of my grief. Thanks for reading. And thanks for remembering our Carter.