Monday, March 22, 2010

Moments Lost

It's just not fair that two little girls are denied such special moments with their Mom. It's very frustrating to me that their isn't a damn thing I can do about it. I can keep us busy, I can listen, offer hugs, dry back little tears, I can tell them how much I love them a hundred times a day, but I can never replace special moments between a Mom and daughter.

Last week while having lunch with one of my best friends, who is a Mother to a seven-year-old girl, she was discussing a cute story. She was telling me how her daughter (who is the same age as Abbie) told her about a special boy in her class. It was the first time that she ever mentioned a boy before. My friend was telling me because it was a special moment for her and her daughter. My girls tell me a lot, but they will never tell me that sort of thing…moments like that are special between a Mom and a daughter. That is the sort of thing that makes me feel so bad for my girls - it's not fair that they are robbed of special moments like that.

At the sleep over two weekends ago, other kids were calling their Mom’s to say goodnight. Abbie overheard some of the girls talking to their Mom's and saying, "I love you", "miss you" etc...She just looked away into the distance, then casually glanced over to me, smiled, and gave me a hug.

The other day the girls were playing with an old cell phone. The conversation went something like this:

Abbie: Here Allie, this phone is for you
Allie: Cool, who can I call?
Abbie: Anyone you want
Allie: Anyone?
Abbie: Yep, anyone you want to talk to
Allie: I want to call Mommy.

Abbie got visibly flustered and told Allie that she couldn't call Mommy, only people who were alive. My heart just sank. Later that night while reading bedtime stories to Allie she said that she wanted to hear Mommy's voice, she wanted to see her, hug her, she wanted her Mommy. I told her that I wanted that to, but whenever I want to think of Jen, I close my eyes, put my hand on my heart and remember a good time from the past.

1 comment:

  1. Oh my aching heart! You handled that one nicely, Bill (sniff sniff).


Inside Bill's Head -- Previously Known as (Inside the Head of a Grieving Single Dad)

In August of 2009 my wife Jennifer passed away from an Anaplastic Astrocytoma Brain Tumor. She was only 38 years old. She left me and our two little girls Abbie and Allie to continue life’s journey.

I promised her that I would NOT become angry and bitter about what order to do that I am attempting to write to express my thoughts and feelings.

This site is a place where I can express my thoughts, feelings and rants...