Tuck woke in the middle of the night, crying and crying. This doesn’t happen to us as often anymore.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I stood next to his bed, reaching my arm over the top bunk rail to rub his back.
“I don’t know. I just don’t know why I’m crying.”
And then, “Mommy, why don’t you cry for my daddy anymore?”
Oh, sweet boy. I think I know why you’re crying. And I think I might not have words to explain it either.
“I still do sometimes, Tuck. I cry when I’m sad, but I’m not always sad. It’s okay if you want to cry, and it’s okay if you don’t. You can feel however you feel, buddy.”
Just feel how you feel, my love. It’s all I’ve learned how to do.
Poor Guy, I know how that goes, I cried some years later after losing my Grandfather, I was too young to understand death at the time he died.
Praying for your sweet boys hearts! I’m so sorry!