I don't know if it is the initial shock wearing off?
I bet that is what the grief books say.
I can't read those books for more than five minutes at a time.
I just can't.
There have been multiple times when I didn't want to move forward Jesse.
I want to be with you.
I listened to one of your old voice mails today, twice.
That's all I could do.
I look at your face in the pictures around the house and I close my eyes.
This house no longer feels like home.
I hear your voice, I see your smile.
I go out every now and then and I end up getting anxious and restless because you are not there.
It makes me physically sick and I get nauseous.
I hurry and get back to the house.
I feel like you might be waiting for me at home.
Or maybe you might be coming home soon to be with me
I look at Isis' face and think about how she will remember you as she gets older.
I keep talking to her about you.
We both talk about you.
Sometimes we also avoid talking about you.
It's the pain.
I want her to always remember things you taught her and remember your values and what was important to you.
I want her to remember her daddy who loved her so much and lived only for her for many years.
I look at Maya's face and I look for you in her.
I wonder how I am going to tell her about you.
I wonder what I am going to tell her about her daddy.
I want her to know you.
I have started talking to her in Malayalam, like you've always wanted me to.
But what's the point since you are not here to watch me talk to her in another language.
Every now and then I stop and think about what you would've said to her while pushing her in the stroller while she looked up at you with her beautiful smile.
The funny faces you would've made to make her laugh
Rushed to her side when she woke up from her nap, crying
Snuggled up next to her while she slept
Where are you?
How are you?
What are you doing these days?
Do you miss me?
Do you watch over the girls?
Will you show me the way?