There was nothing of Michael's in the wash. Not a sock. No boxer briefs with clone troopers on them. No t-shirts. No pajamas.
It seems that life is moving forward. And I am not. I still expect Michael to come home. That this is not permanent. Mornings are difficult ... I wake up and my first thought is of Michael. Then I remember.
Today I am missing Michael's belly laugh. How he would throw his head back and laugh straight from the the top of his toes. Or when we would watch a suspenseful movie (like Star Wars, of course!), he would jump up and down and cheer the good guys on.
I miss our snuggle time. I miss our afternoon snack time. I miss the sound of his practicing his fluency paragraphs. I miss checking his spelling pre-test. I miss the sound of his playing with his army men. He was the best sound effect maker. I miss watching him sleep. I miss the way he said Mommy. I miss the action figures that he would stick in my purse just because he wanted them to go with me.
I love being Michael's mommy. I learned much from him in his short life. He taught me how to laugh. And how to love. He taught me about grace under pressure. He showed me what strength truly is. He showed me how to play. How to be creative. How to go with the flow. So many things.