When you say a particular word every morning and every night you would think it would be difficult to not say. I haven’t said ‘good’ morning or ‘good’ night in 92 days. I have lost the ‘good’. My good is no longer on Earth. I can’t see or feel or touch or hear my good. Joe can’t either. Nor can Daniel or Zeagan or Adrianna or any of his friends or our family. I wish I could go back in time to the two days before when I took a selfie of Zeagan and I in the back yard. Zeagan only had one shoe on. Strange how I remember that. Zane was in the house. He came outside a few minutes later to see and play with Zeagan. I should have taken pictures. I lost my last chance to take pictures of my ‘good’. Word to the wise, take pictures of every moment, you might miss your ‘good’. Nothing is promised.
The beautiful sunrise and sunset is no longer ‘good’. The smell of rain, the sound of thunder, the thought of winter coming and a chance of snow…it’s not ‘good’. My baby isn’t here to enjoy it. Zane loved the rain. Some might remember the night before and morning of the funeral…the rain that poured and poured. I had to say “OK Zane, that’s enough, no more rain!”. Guess what? An hour later it stopped raining. At the cemetery we sat under the awning where there was concrete because of mud. The pallbearers carried him to his resting place. Would you believe me if I told you it really wasn’t wet on the actual ground?!? At the end when most had left, I collapsed on Daniel as he knelt down. Not a smidge of mud on his pants. And the dog. The dog with bright blue/grey eyes that wanted to play but was kinda shy. That silly little guy ONLY splashed my baby boy’s car. I just kept giggling knowing it was Zane. I just knew. My eyes and Zane’s are the same color…grey/blue. While my eyes have aged years in the last 3 months, I have a spark knowing I gave him my eye color. He might have been 6 inches taller than me but he was definitely my mini-me. Same eyes, same skin, same nose, same hair texture, same sarcastic attitude. Daniel is a epiphany of Joe, Zane was mine.
I remember the morning I lost my ‘good’ in the morning. Joe and I were on the air mattress in my mother in law’s living room where we stayed for a month before moving to the rent house. It was day 3 of hell. No real sleep. I heard the wind chime quietly ding even though there was NO breeze in the house. I would continue to hear this chime only at night for the duration of my stay at Carmen’s house. I would never hear it during the day when there was a breeze or commotion in the house. I turned to Joe and said I lost the ‘good’ and cried for an hour. I didn’t know what else to do. I still don’t. I haven’t said it since. I don’t know if I ever will. I will change the way I say it forever.