I've been following Matt Logelin and his amazing story for years and years now. I watched (via his blog) as this little baby girl...
turned into this precious little girl...
Each step of the way I've loved his story, his view on it, and the way he writes so honest and true about the good times and the pain. (His book was on this list and read on this vacation.) As Matt waited quietly and cautiously for Maddy to ask the hard questions about her mommy, where she was, and why, the rest of us trudged along. Last night, I went out to pick up some Thai food for us. While I was waiting I picked up my phone and went to his blog to read. I found the post below. I caught me off guard in a major way and put my life instantly back into perspective. I whipped tears away as I waited for my chicken satay and thought how good life really is and how lucky we are to have people we love in our lives.
*If you are bothered by the f-word you might not want to read his blog. The post below contains a few of them itself but I think they are all justified.
"questions.
they came today,
a torrent of them,
an attempt to
make sense of
your little world,
combining the things
we talk about
every day in an
(almost)
4 year
old’s level of comprehension.
while digging your
spoon into a bowl of
(what i learned from grandpa tom g. a few nights ago)
was your mom’s
favorite cereal.
“daddy, why did mommy want to buy this house?”
i was surprised. this
is not a question
you’ve asked before.
“she wanted you to have a yard to play in and she loved all of the trees and plants. especially the lemon and grapefruit trees.”
“oh. i love you, daddy. can i have some orange juice, please?”
then you asked
a bunch
of questions about
how grandmas can
also be moms.
then in the car…
“daddy, what did you and mommy do for fun?”
again, not a question
i’ve heard from
you before.
i told you about
our travels, our nights
with friends, everything
i could think
of before the next
question interrupted me…
“why was my mommy in the hospital?”
i told you
why she
was there, and how
her only care
in the world was
getting you
out safely.
as much as the
previous questions
took me by surprise,
the next one took
the wind out of me.
“daddy, did you hold my mommy’s hand when she died?”
fuck.
as i tried to
breath and to
figure out how
to answer that one
(how do i explain to you at this point in your life that i was rushed out of the room so the doctors and nurses could work on you mom, and that it was impossible for me to hold her hand until after she had already died?).
i started bawling,
impossible to hide
my tears from you.
i did my best
to explain it to you,
but what i said
will never take
away what happened that day.
i looked in
my mirror to see
you reaching for me.
i reached back for
you, my hand now
in yours,
you rubbing my hand
the way i rubbed your
mom’s
that day
(and many before it).
“daddy, i love you.”
you knew i
needed that.
“i love you too, maddy.”
sometimes i forget
how mature you are,
and how you understand
and comprehend more
than i think you do.
“you know, you can ask me anything about your mommy, and you can talk about her anytime, right?”
“yeah. daddy. i know.”
and as i worried
about how i’d fucked up
your day by crying
you said,
“daddy. oliver is not on my imagination team anymore.”
and i just laughed.
“it’s not funny, daddy!”
you yelled back at me.
and no, it’s not,
but it was.
and i’m sorry i didn’t
ask why he was
no longer on your team,
or what the fuck
an imagination team
actually is."
