Today we complete our second school year without Steve.
When I cried at the morning assembly it was partly because I always, without fail since my own kindergarten year, cry on the last day of school. Don't get me wrong -- I love growth and achievement and the freedom of summer. But I'm terrible at goodbyes and love, love, love everything about learning and the community spirit of school.
And I partly cried because I ache for my children, who have the most amazing Daddy and terribly miss his hugs and laugh and physical presence. He wasn't there to hear the lively baseball medley that the kids have been practicing for weeks. Or to personally thank Mrs. Schmidt and Mrs. Harris for taking care of our children so well all year.
And I cried because I miss Steve's laughs and hugs and hand to hold. And I carry the intermingled joy and heavy weight of being the only parent on earth to two truly amazing people. And because milestones are difficult when I can't share them with Steve.
But I can share them with many other folks who love Cooper and Katie, and that makes the heaviness a little lighter.