Dylan playing with a plastic pot with a funny face on it
I could see it in my mind....
his tiny little hands...well more of brut for a toddler who was bigger than everyone else his age....16 days before his first birthday....2 teeth in his little mouth.....little blue jeans, blue and white striped shirt, white shoes, little blonde hair and the cutest little face ever.
We were at Toddler Story hour at the Lake County Public Library, something we had been doing for several weeks now as a way to socialize him but that kid loved that pot and spoon and would rather play with it instead of the other kids. The premise was to listen to a short story, do activites and play with toys to interact with other little toddlers, but my son wanted to do his own thing and his thing was to dart to that pot every time and to take it from others if they had it. He knew exactly what he wanted! (he is still kind of this way now)
I had an uneasy feeling all day, not sure why. I remember getting up and getting both kids ready to go to story hour and then driving to pick up a friend and her children. This friend lived across the street from my mom. I honked at mom as I went by, the curtains were open, which meant she was up.
I wonder if she heard me, I wonder if she knew it was me.
When we left that day, I took that friend back to her house and left the kids with her and went over to check on mom. I went in the back door through the laundry room. I didn't go up the two steps into the kitchen; just stuck my head in and looked into the living room. I do not even remember if I called out her name or just looked in. I thought for a brief moment that mom was sleeping on the love seat. I pulled my head back through the door in an effort to let her sleep and not wake her. But as soon as I did this, my mind grasp what had happened and my heart sunk as I realized mom wasn't sleeping...Mom had passed away in her sleep.
There are things I remember about that day and I am sure there are some things that I do not remember. Today, I realized just how much Dylan doesn't remember. He was 16 days short of being one. This morning, he and I were talking about today being 13 years since she had passed and he spoke about how he was only one year old when she died. Not much one can remember at that age. Kylie has memories of her Granma...Dylan only has stories of what we have told him and a photo of the two of them together. All I can tell him and I do hope he truly believes this...She loved her little squoosh face and she would be so proud of the wonderful young man he has become.
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