My instinct was to come home, crawl in bed, and just bawl the day away, but somehow my car turned itself toward campus instead. Before I knew it, Stewey and I were sitting at the Grotto with our faces in the sun, watching the people come and go and the flickering of the candles. We lit one too and prayed that we would both be brave and peaceful as we touched the stone from Lourdes. It was the most quiet hour my heart has felt since July.
I wish I could tell you that I am strong and calm and hanging in there, but I seem to be in a little bubble of shock that makes me want to freeze time and never get to the point where I have to make that decision. Everyone tells me that I will know when it's right, but all I know right now is that I am just not ready to lose him.
So we're going to take our meds and wash our boo boos and keep them clean and hang out in the Happy Chair and eat turkey bacon. We're watching lots of movies and reading lots of stories, and I am trying my best to remember all of the stuff I want Stewey to tell my mom and dad when he finally leaves me and goes to them. Crazy, isn't it? Me imagining my Stewey Little in his little smoking jacket and cravat noodging my mom for a kiss or cuddling with my dad on a football Saturday.
Oh well, whatever gets us through, I suppose.
Progress continues on Vaceila. I'll have updates for you in the next few days. In the meantime, do something wonderful and come tell us all about it and have a fabulous weekend!