WOW

5 years.  I can’t say it’s any easier, it’s just different.  Isabella says she misses him although she was only 16 months when he passed away.  Jackson follows with “I miss him, too”, and he wasn’t born for another year and a half.  Crazy kid, but it’s that kind of stuff that just wrenches at me.

This ride really sucks.

Changes

Haven’t updated in a while.  Theres’ just not much to say anymore.

Changes. So many changes. I wish Mason was here to witness all of them.

Mason and Isabella’s little brother showed up early. He wasn’t due till 9/13, but he made an early appearance on 8/22. All is well with him and momma. Her blood pressure was running pretty high and the Dr. made the call to perform a “C” section that evening.

I’ve since taken on a new job. Not exactly a career change, but made the move from a contract position to work directly for the company. It’s a good move for me, a good move for my family.

We’ve made it through Thanksgiving, Christmas has come and gone.

Mason’s birthday has passed us again. He would have been 13. Finally a teenager. I might have even gotten him a cell phone. It would give me something else to take away when he misbehaved.

As I said in a previous posting, we sold the house and moved to a rental for about 9 months or so. It was a much smaller house, but we made it work.

We finally bought a new house, moved in just a few weeks ago. It’s much closer to work, 24 miles each way vs. the 76 miles each way I was driving. It’s a much shorter, less stressful, drive. It’s got a big yard, front and back, that the kids can play in. I ordered a new playset for Isabella and Jackson, it will be here this weekend. She’ll love it. Jackson will love it too.

Everything is just great.

On the surface.

But deep down inside, everything is not great. I’m waiting on things to get better. I don’t cry as much as I did before, so maybe that’s better. But I don’t feel better. I feel the same. I feel worse. There is a huge hole in my life, in my family, that nobody sees. I hesitate to bring it up to people. The dreaded question; “How many kids do you have?” I fumble for the answer. I’ve just met these people, do I want to unload my depressing story on them right off the bat?

It still hurts. I expect it to for a while. I guess I expect it forever. The pain is a reminder.