Monday, November 21, 2011

Turkey Lunch

It was the annual tradition of the elementary school's Turkey Lunch.  I packed a lunch for the picky PreK tagalong, and we joined Tucker for a plentiful harvest in his cafeteria. 

What a delight to see him in action, to see him making the rounds to gather his food, choosing his place at the table, and socializing with his network of six-year-olds.  It's a gift to enter his world.

But I didn't see the blow coming - the families sitting with their students, and the dads, the dads, the dads. 

I didn't want to be there alone.  I didn't plan to be there alone.  Robb would have met us there, his company car in the parking lot, his Farmers Insurance logo on his shirt.  He would have folded himself in half to squeeze onto the stool at the little tiny tables.  Later, we would have laughed about the yellow gravy, the dry turkey, and the dozens of children eating only the frosted pumpkin cake.

I finished the lunch, deposited my children in their respective classrooms, walked to the car, and fell to pieces in breathless sobbing.

I saw that Tyler had left his jacket in the car.  I prayed that God would send sunshine or an extra jacket for my little man, because I couldn't bear to go back inside.

There is no medication for the tearing ache of longing.  There are no warning signs for a blow like this.

5 comments:

Katy said...

Oh, Tricia, my heart aches for you. Praying for you even as I type.

gluten free girl in a pasta world said...

I am so sorry.
No other words come.
Storming the gates for you today.

Pati @ A Crafty Escape said...

I'm sorry. It's times like this that have me asking the dreaded "why" question. My heart hurts for you. Wish there was something I could say to make it better. But I know the physical pain of losing someone to well... and I'm not sure if there's anything that can make it better.

Holly said...

I found your blog last week...have been following you daily. The cinnamon roll post really made me think. I have really been trying hard to be understanding with my teenager (girl 13) but she makes me crazy! lol Its mostly her room and lack of orgainization. She is a free giving soul and I should embracce it I know but its way hard sometimes. Im sorry for your loss. Long distant hugs for you <3

Maryellen said...

I can so relate to this. Thanksgiving morning I posted about doing ok. Posted about beginning to see the light at the end of this endless tunnel. Posted about feeling free from panic and anxiety. I went to the family Thanksgiving and did pretty well until after dinner when the panic came in like a gust of rain. The grief overwhelmed me and I had to go outside alone. Throw up, work through the adrenaline shakes, come undone. God I miss him. Do you think they miss us? I want him to miss me.