Ali made the cake, and I brought the kids into the kitchen for our sad little family party. Billie had called earlier and asked if we were doing anything, and I told her we were keeping it simple. I hope she understands.
“Come here, Lessi,” Ali said. “I have to teach you the birthday song. We’re gonna sing it to Luca, ok?”
Her communication skills aren’t that high yet, so she mispronounced all the words, and it was so adorably cute. For a moment, we were back to normal and happy. Fake happy, maybe, but happy. I did this to us. It hurt so badly, but I had to keep it together for my baby. It’s a very special day for him, and I’ve already ruined his future. I won’t ruin his birthday party with my sadness.
The next morning, I was surprised to see my handsome little guy up and eating breakfast, despite not needing to attend school yet. He seemed a bit pensive, but so was I. I’m trying to wrap my head around Ali leaving me, potentially, and how I’m going to take care of the kids by myself. Maybe it won’t be so bad. I deal with them during the day mostly by myself anyway. But Mommy isn’t here to help me anymore.
I love how responsible Luca is already. He reminds me so much of myself when I was his age, washing dishes, mopping floors, and taking out trash. I loved helping Mommy. I loved the way she smiled at me.
“Thanks for washing the dishes, bud.”
I wish I could muster a smile for him. Hopefully, my words are enough today. When he turned around, I saw he wasn’t ok, and I ran to him.
“Luca? What’s wrong?”
“Where’s gammy? Why didn’t she come to my party?”
It’s definitely time for him to know. He’s old enough to understand and deserves the truth, but I don’t need this today. But life is full of unpleasant situations, and fighting through them is how we grow. So I began the difficult task of explaining death to my child.
