This morning, I had to go back for my normal 6-month dental checkup. I walked in, plopped gracelessly into the exam chair, and said, "If I have any cavities, please just lie to me today and tell me that I don't. I'm kind of done for this year." The technician laughed, then reviewed my chart and said, "We did two fillings last time!" She read some more. "It's been a year since your x-rays, but since you had cancer this year..."
"Yeah, let's skip that, please. Seriously. LIE to me. I don't want to know."
My teeth were fine. Or maybe they weren't. I'm honestly unsure if she took my request to heart or if my daily ministrations were adequate enough to stave the inevitable decay of my teeth.
I have a cold. I started getting it on Thursday night. I realized, as I struggled to fall asleep last night, that I haven't had a cold since Connor had his last cold. I don't think I am entertaining any irrational ideas, like this could kill me too, but maybe I am in the deepest of my subconsciousness. It's just another reminder in a world crowded with reminders.
Halloween is upon us, and that was always hard - finding a costume that would work for him and not make him uncomfortable; going to the block party where inevitably, there were people who didn't know us and I felt like he was on display; one of us keeping him home so that the other could take the other munchkins trick-or-treating.
The boys and I went to the pumpkin patch with Lee's parents this year, and they selected a white pumpkin for Connor, because "...he's a ghost now..." Okay, boys. We carved them yesterday, and then Tucker "got sad" at the reminder. We put their pumpkins together which made him feel better. He spoke again yesterday about wanting to be dead so he could be with his brother. He's also started being very sad to the point of tears every time he has to say good-bye to a pet. Mind you, these are not our pets - they are family or friend pets, and all that is happening is that they are going home, or we are going home. But it occurred to me that these dogs are snuggle friends for Tucker, and he frequently snuggled Connor. I hate seeing him cry each time he and whatever dog he's attached himself to are separated.
On the flip side, Drew doesn't mention anything at all. He also handles separation from animals with aplomb. Being 8 seems to suit him. He runs around in Connor's old winter pajamas, which fit him well, but it's painful to see those again. The last things he wore were pajamas. I should have just gotten rid of them all.