We said our goodbyes about an hour ago, and I miss you already. You gave me a hug and a kiss, then cried and wanted me to go stay at your house. You said you were going to miss me and Tony and Sacha and that you didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to cry in front of you, I wanted you to see the face of your goofy auntie Sarah, but I let the waterfall out as soon as you left. Singing Sacha to sleep was a strained voice jetted with tears and cracked breaths.
When you were a baby, I used to visit you and your mom every Friday afternoon. You always smiled at me, laughed until you were red in the face when I danced like a moron to “Proud Mary”, you loved reading with me, and I loved every minute of you. I had pictures of you on my bulletin board in my classroom, and told relentless Elliot stories to everyone with ears to listen. You are the reason I wanted so much to become a mama. I loved you that much.
It hurts me so much to have to leave you, knowing full well that it will be almost a year before I can play with you again, that Sacha will be a year older before you two can once more terrorize each other. How I wish that my concept of time and space was as innocent as yours. Maybe then you wouldn’t seem as far away or I wouldn’t miss you so much in between the together times.
You just left, and I miss you already.
I love you, Elliot.