ONE YEAR – Hobbes Refuses To Talk To Anyone

Good Morning,

Today it has officially been one year. I tried having your dad write a letter but he just could not do it. So today I am writing this letter. Part of me wants to scream and the other to just sit. I woke up this morning to Hobbes hiding under my blanket.  He didn’t want to face the day. He refused to come out or even talk to anyone. We miss you in the house.  Your dad just wants to be able to hug you again. Three year ago today Tori you and your dad where playing tea party. I know you are too old to play that now but we made sure to keep your glass tea set.

I guess the thing I find most frustrating is no one else remembers.  No one remembers and I cannot forget. I understand today you may not even realize it has been a year.  With your busy lives of school and extra circular activities I sure we are often just a fleeting thought. Yet as adults and two parents that love the both of you there is never a moment we do not wish you were not here with us. I hope there is finally peace and stability in your lives that was savagely ripped away with your parents’ divorce. I know the year prior to that was tough on the both of you.  You both craved attention in your own ways. I liked to believe we found some peace and joy in our cooking meals together. Xander with you tenderizing meat and Tori with you mixing ingredients. You found a peace at having order instead of chaos in seeing and sharing in table manners and proper dinner etiquette. In our kitchen we found a peace that only God can give.

I miss having the two of you in my kitchen. It has never been the same sense. It is like being a stranger in your house. Yet I cook and remember still. I do so in the honor of you two. A hope that at least somewhere that maybe you are in a kitchen with your mom cooking. Finding peace with God like we did together.

Love you both.

P.S.  I have attached your dad’s good bye video here to ensure that if you ever need to hear it that you have a place to find it. I also placed the last photo your dad and I have of you before we could not see you any longer.




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