Another (mostly) good day. Hooray. I had a really great time with my dad and brother—the camaraderie shared over mutual enjoyment of thrill rides is pretty awesome. Even coming home to find that the brand new A/C is not working again (ARGH) didn’t put too much of a damper on the lingering warm feelings from the day.
The only sad moments I had today were not unlike the ones I had the last time I went to an amusement park, about four weeks after Hudson died, right around the time I started this blog. But today’s sadness felt more wistful and nostalgic than sharp and painful. Today, my eye kept being drawn to the many little girls at the park, little girls of all ages, from Hudson’s age up through teenagers. I just couldn’t stop wondering what my little girl would have looked like, what she would have been like at those ages. Would she finally have gotten enough hair for some pigtails? Would she have grown tall and lanky? Would she be a squirmer or would she have been patient? (I have a pretty good guess on this one.) Would she still have let her daddy hold her hand even when she was eleven or twelve? Would she have liked roller coasters like her mama?
Long before Hudson died, Ed and I used to talk about how weird it was to not know what your child will look like when she is older, when she is five and ten and twenty years old. I am sitting here just growing sadder and sadder thinking about how we will never know (have I mentioned how much grief sucks this way?). This picture is the oldest she will ever look. Oh, my girl, we miss you so much.