I Wish He Could Enjoy These Things

I wish Nolan were here. 

I always wish Nolan were here. 

I think of him all the time. 

He should be here to enjoy life with us.  I remember how much we were enjoying our sunroom before he died.  Just a few weeks before his death I had bought a couch and tv for the sunroom.  I wanted it to be a great place for the kids to hangout with friends.  I still had hopes for fixing the basement, but wasn't sure when that would happen. 

We were rapidly outgrowing our little three-bedroom house with our five growing kids. 

Oh how I would love to be that crowded again!

About a year after Nolan's death, I started to work on the basement.  I rented a huge dumpster and decluttered like crazy.  Then I painted walls, I painted the floor.  Next I hired someone to put up a couple walls.  After that I organized, bought carpets, bought furniture.  I even bought a small pool table.  The basement became a wonderful space for the children.  It nearly doubled our living space.

Now I am open to parties, to sleepovers. 

In the last month, I have hosted a first communion party, a birthday party, a slumber party, a sleepover, and a baby shower.  All in a month. 

Our house has felt festive, full of laughter and noise and friends.

I think of Nolan and his beautiful personality.  He would be loving the social life we have been having. 

I wish he were here. 

Guilt

Sometimes I feel guilty. 

I find myself smiling, laughing, genuinely enjoying myself.

Or like, just a bit ago, I was singing a Christmas song.  Christmas has always brought so much joy and happiness. 

When I lose myself in a movie, a book, a bottle of wine. 

I feel guilty.

I am aware of the need to keep moving.  I am aware that I have other children.  I am aware that "life goes on."

But there is guilt in that life that still lives.

There is guilt that I missed something and my son died.

There is guilt in good times.

I know that Nolan's wonderful spirit would want us to be happy.  I know that he wouldnt' want me to wallow in my sadness.

I know that. 

It doesn't change how I feel, how empty our world is without him.  It doesn't change that when I laugh, I think to myself that he should be laughing too.