Oof.

“Mama,” Elias said tonight, “when will Gigi be alive again?”

He’s been so sanguine about Gigi being gone. I wondered when the other shoe was going to drop, and apparently it’s tonight. So I talked to him a little bit about what dying means, and I cried while I talked.

So Levi piped up, “Well, I don’t care about Gigi at all!”

I know he doesn’t mean that. I think he wanted me to stop crying. I know he wants it to be all better. When he cries, it never lasts very long, and he’s having a hard time understanding a sadness that is big and long and heavy.

They didn’t ruin my day, because it was frankly kind of a bad one anyway. I’m having trouble tonight, putting on my brave face. I know the worst of this will pass. I know there will be whole days when I’m not sad, and then whole strings of days together. Tonight, though, is a pretty crummy night.

There are things I should be doing. There are bills I need to pay, and e-mails I need to send, and if you have ever visited my home you just know there are things that needed to be cleaned. But not tonight. Tonight I have self-medicated with homemade soft pretzels and butter, and I am going to bed early, with my new blankie.

Tonight, I am just tired, and I miss my mom.