Ryan is walking now. He officially stands up on his own. He started that on Friday. And then he walks three steps and falls but then he gets up. That started yesterday. My little boy, my little man is trying to walk. It’s funny because it still feels like he was just born a few days ago. Time goes too fast. He is almost 11 months about to be a year. Pretty soon I won’t have my baby anymore. And you know, through all these changes and new beginnings, and even closings on certain things, I wish there was that one person that was here so I can tell her about it.
Sylvia. Gus’s mom. She passed away this past June. And though it sometimes feels like forever ago at times and other times, the wound feels fresh like it was just yesterday, the words still come that are suppose to be just for her. I thought about Ryan walking and how much as a mother you just want to boast about your baby and I remember doing that with Sylvia. And with each of them, Savannah and Sienna, she would see and know of all their lastest baby compliments. And it was like they just won the nobel prize. And this time, there is no “nobel prize praise” for my baby boy. No big grandma kisses on what a big boy he is. I wonder what she would say about my baby boy.
I miss her. I think about her everyday and I am sorry that my Ryan will not remember as he should. I am sorry that he wont get to go to the park with her, have her run after him, or even squeeze him. The holidays which were always spent at her house, well its like the day she left us, everything that existed within her or even about her ceased to exist too. There is no more house. The holidays will still come. And we will still smile and laugh and give all to grave face for our babies but actually it will be there still behind our eyes, the words we just wont say. But they will be still be there, hanging in the air. And despite everything, she wont be here for the words we are used to hearing from her. And we will have the words for her but no one to give them to.
“Sylvia, Ryan is walking. He takes three or four steps and then falls. Every time he falls and looks up, he grins this crazy grin. You would laugh if you saw it. You would fall to pieces.”