Sunday, October 16, 2011

Still Gone

This evening, we returned home from a lovely three-day weekend in Chapel Hill to a very quiet house. I turned melancholy almost the minute I walked into the door. It took me only a few moments to realize that what I was feeling was deep disappointment to come home and once again find that Hudson is gone. I didn’t even know that I was hoping she might be there until I got home and discovered, yet again, that she wasn’t.

She is still gone. One of these days, I imagine, that will cease to surprise me. But not today.


  1. :(
    Sad for you and the world.

  2. Mandy, almost daily I think about a post you wrote over a year ago about how you heard a bus outside your house and wondered, for the briefest moment, whether this was all a terrible nightmare and the sound you heard was not a bus at all but Hudson stirring in her crib. I think of this every time the local bus passes outside my house and I am struck by how very cruel it is that your mind would go there, only to be knocked back to the harsh reality. Even worse is knowing how many times the terrible realization of her death has hit you, over and over again. I'm so sorry. I wish with all my heart that it wasn't so.

  3. It will come as no surprise to you (I suspect) nor to Ed that I tend to go through a similar ritual at St. Ann's. Hudson is supposed to be there, touching my goatee and giggling. She's is supposed to be the one telling Peanut how to put the dolls away, instead of Peanut telling everyone else. She's supposed to be the one encouraging Little Man as he begins to take his first steps. Most importantly, she's supposed to be running down the hall past me to hug you every day when we arrive to pick them up. I'll never get used to her not doing any of it . . .

  4. It takes a long time, Mandy. The heart doesn't like to give up hope even after the mind has :(

  5. I really don't know if ever the day will come. Walking alongside you my friend.. and sending a hug.

  6. Oh I get that. Lauren and I just got back from one of our Matt's Trees trips to New Orleans...we were both kind of emotional/teary on the way down, and realized that both of us on some level STILL expect to be going down there to see him. As Lauren put it, "Every time I'm there I seem to be searching for something...and, of course, what I'm looking for is Matt." When we're HERE, we can almost forget sometimes that he's seems like he is just away...but when we're headed down there, and have to face again the fact that he is NOT THERE, that we are NOT going to for the happy purpose of visiting with him (and maybe some day with his family) it's the "Wham" experience you talked about a few days ago...

    I'm so sorry, for all of us.