Sunday Dinner

My family has a standing Sunday Dinner date at our family cottage at the late. It is at 5:30 pm every Sunday from May until September. Throughout my childhood and teens there were many of us. Most often having 30+ at the “table” for supper. Some family, some like family.

You see the lake is a way of life for us. My grandparents built the cottage in 1972. It is all I know. Myself, my two siblings and eight cousins.  Waterskiing, kneeboarding, canoeing, swimming, fishing, eating wagon wheels of watermelon on the front deck. You name it. We have done it.

This year is no different. I am blessed to have a close family. But, at times that can be scary in our situation. You see, we no longer feel like we fit, we belong. There are five of us, that are all born in a 6 year period. We all grew up very close. Despite three of them living three provinces away during our younger years. You name it we got into it! Well you cannot prove it…………..

This weekend two of my cousins are home with their families from away. Yesterday was Sunday. All week I have looked forwarded to seeing my loved ones and have missed them much. But with that comes a day spent with six children under 7 years of age. I have been fearful.

At one point yesterday afternoon, I was standing on the shore looking out and lost it. Completely. Sobbing. I had to go to our car and collect myself. One of my cousins saw me go and followed. I think I scared her. She has two beautiful boys. A four-year old and 19 months old. She had two very high risk pregnancies and suffered a miscarriage with her first. I think I truly scared her. I scared myself. I was doing ok. Or so I thought, and then it hits. There is just no warning. You see in your vision the shadow of what should be your own 25 month old son playing in the lake, throwing rocks, digging in the dirt. What will never be. You watch the look on your husband’s face, all day, as he watches the children play. How he looks when he picks up the youngest when he trips on a rock. Dusts him off and away he goes. You feel the guilt of not being able to give that to him for himself.

I tried to explain to my cousin.  It is not you guys.  We love you all very much.  It just feels like we do not belong anymore.  We are those people.  Even with our own family.

Each day is a new day and a new outlook sometimes but no matter what C you are every present. You are much-loved and much missed.


2 responses

  1. I hope your cousin was able to provide you with love and support in the moment. And, I wish you strength as you continue to move forward while cherishing and loving your son and his memory.

    June 9, 2014 at 3:06 pm

  2. I feel your sadness, longing and heartbreak in this post. I also hear your undying love for Carter. I am so sorry things are not as they should be and that even the beautiful times are sharply pierced with all that you and your husband are missing so dearly. ((Hugs))

    June 9, 2014 at 4:14 pm

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