The anniversary is nigh. We simultaneously dread it and look forward to it. It will make things easier when we don't have the thought "This is the first time since..." in our heads whenever we do anything. We've gone on trips. We've had all the birthdays. We've made our slow and steady progress. One of my friends told me today that we have been soldiering on, and he's right. It's a long, difficult march with pack on our backs that is the heaviest invisible thing ever.
And since time marches on, we do too.
In a few weekends, it will be the anniversary of Connor's passing. We've decided to proceed like this: If you want to come to see us on January 31 or February 1, please do. We aren't planning anything formal, but our house, our hearts and our arms will be open. There will be drinks and snacks here. Stop by, sit with us, if you feel compelled.
Don't bring anything. Especially lasagna. We want to see you. If your parents raised you to believe in the deepest fabric of your soul that you cannot show up empty handed, then please bring a seed for his garden. In the spring, we'll refresh his garden and inter his cremains there, and we want it to be beautiful and full of love. If you bring a seed, I promise it will get planted and cared for as best as we possibly can, and that he will be a part of that plant. Flowers, bulbs, butterfly bushes, anything decorative.
Well, maybe if you felt like it, you could also bring doughnuts. I mean, who doesn't love doughnuts, and we'll probably want the comfort food. And if you are a part of my family, since the 1st is Super Bowl Sunday, if you felt inclined to bring the original, correct ingredients for Chip Mix, then we'll have something to nosh while we watch the big game.
Thanks again, everyone, for everything.