October? Are you there?

The rate at which the last month has flown by seems surreal, like someone might say ‘just kidding! It’s only OCTOBER 1^st!’ And yet, here we are, November 1^st, daylight savings, the calm before the holiday storm.  I try to take it all in but so many times it’s like my vision is blurred and it’s only after things happen that I can pick up on some details.  It’s why I bring my camera with me everywhere anymore since Jack died, if I didn’t I’m not sure what I’d remember of the last year; that’s how fast it’s moved and how distracted I’ve felt.  ‘Fall Back’, it’s how we remember to turn our clocks back an hour, but today when I heard someone say it, I caught myself thinking, “an hour isn’t enough, I need to go back- about 10 months, everything was easier then.”

Some of my girlfriends and I decided to start a book club.  Less because we are strong book enthusiasts and more because we could use another excuse to come together, wine & whine, and enjoy each other outside of work. Mission accomplished.  The book was pretty great too if you’re looking for a read.  

Tuesday was Kennedy’s preschool Halloween party and I couldn’t go.  Parents were asked to bring a peanut free snack.  You want to talk stressful?  I was terrified I would be responsible for sending someone’s kid into anaphylactic shock.  I could have just picked something simple like Halloween Oreos and called it a day but I was trying to assuage my working-mother guilt and was an over achiever (as least as far as I was concerned on a Monday night).  She, of course, didn’t eat anything at the party. Oh well.

Thursday brought us a bit of a sucker punch.  We finally had ourselves, financially and emotionally, enough together to call the cemetery to have the foundation poured and order Jack’s memorial.  When I called, I was told that they we done laying foundations for the season, meaning we wouldn’t be able to have Jack’s done until after the winter, most likely April.  To say I lost it is a complete and total understatement.  I felt like I could vomit.  I called the lovely woman who helped us choose a plot to bury our son only one day after getting home from Philadelphia, crying with us, having only lost her infant nephew days before.  I begged her to help us, and she promised to try her best.  I was a mess, poor Sean was at a loss for what to say or do.  What did we know about a time frame for these things?  We weren’t even 30, we’d never had to do something this important and finite before.  He would be in an unmarked grave for over a year.  Nothing on Christmas, or his first birthday to let people know how loved this baby boy had been and still is.  I felt like we’d failed him.  You see being a parent is a tough enough job; you constantly feel like you suck at the job.  Being a parent to a child that leaves this earth before you do?  It’s damn near impossible because you never get the reinforcement kids give their parents; a mercy gesture to let you know you’re not all bad.  Instead you have to just hope with every fiber of your being that you are doing right by them.  Well someone, somewhere, is looking out for my family, because we got a call from the kind cemetery lady saying that it would be done.  We went the next day, paid what could have been a semester of tuition at college for Jack (well who am kidding, with inflation, in 18 years, maybe half a semester) and attempted to create something beautiful to leave at his special spot.  My heart rested a bit easier that night.

Saturday, we took Kennedy for her first learn-to-skate lesson and it was magic.  She started in total fear, crying and wanting to leave, and left after crossing the ice, bucket free.  It was a proud mama & papa moment for Sean and me.

We made our way to Boston to spend a Beacon Hill Halloween with Jen and Andrew and see their new apartment. Their place is gorgeous; completely envy-inducing and we are so excited to see the finished product, though it did just fine for a picnic of pizza, wine and cupcakes.  The Halloween spectacle was everything promised.  These people know how to get down on the 31^st.  Roads were closed down, homes decked out, full-sized candy bars dispensed; every kids dream.  My kid?  She would pick single tootsie-rolls or dum-dums and barely had half a pail before she got tired and said she’d had enough.  The grown-ups? We wanted to see more and so with our kid on shoulders and solo cups of wine in hand we made our way up and down the festive streets.  I also believe my boy wanted us to know he was with us too when we went to one house with a young man with Down syndrome sitting on the steps with his parents in his costume, happily passed out candy to my little lady.  To see him broke my heart and soothed it all at once, mostly because his parents looked so happy to be watching him enjoy himself, as if they knew just how lucky they were.  We finished out the night with our picnic. Kennedy had a well-balanced dinner of candy and juice (parenting win as far as I was concerned) and passed out the moment her little head hit the pillow.

We wrapped up the trip with some playground fun and said our goodbyes to a place and people we love to visit.

So, another month is gone.  Another month and somehow I’ve found a way to keep moving forward.  If ever I need reminders of how that is happening, two of them are laying an arms-length away from me.  Let’s go Mets!