For a minute just now I forgot it’s all happening.
I snuggled in bed next to Annie crying out for me. I can hear Matt cleaning and clanking the dinner dishes. Audrey is snoring lightly across the hall, her backpack readied for another week. Laundry piles are neatly creased and work clothes crisply pressed. Days like these make it easy to forget.
Closet piles with a sister make it easy to forget.
Swinging and singing with friends makes it easy to forget.
Storytime antics make it easy to forget
Hand-me-down toddler tryke riding around the kitchen makes it easy to forget.
Lunch dates with the uncle make it easy to forget.
Post-bath pajama rocking and temporary tattoos make it easy to forget.
The recent weeks seem like a collection of regular nights in someone’s regular life. But they’re not.
We do everything we can to forget that on the inside Annie’s heart is failing. To forget that these days may be our last. To forget that just ahead we will sign papers, put her to sleep, hand her over, hope we get her back…and pray that she’s still eligible to be handed over yet again in the days that follow.
So the truth is that while we try to fill every day so full that we forget the haunting ahead, each fleeting moment reminds us that everything is about the change and it makes me sick to remember.
I am exhausted from the effort to forget… But there are things that have to be forgotten if you want to go on living. And, today, tomorrow is one of those things.