We just do

July 12, 2010

Jeremy is a huge Tom Petty fan. We've had Mo Jo playing in our home since it was released. Jeremy is eagerly anticipating the concert he'll be attending in September with a friend in Phoenix. There is a song on Mo Jo that tugs on my heart strings every time I hear it. "I knew you'd like that song," Jeremy said the first time he played it for me. Last night was no exception.

We were driving back from an end of the weekend iced mocha run. Mo Jo was playing. That song came on. I was mesmerized by the rhythm, the lyrics, my memories. All of it. Tears started streaming down my face. "What's wrong sweetie?" he asked. "What are you thinking about?"

"Harper. And all that we've been through. It could be so different Jeremy," I sobbed and doubled over, hugging my knees to my chest. I didn't want to look at my bare legs with all their scars. They only reminded me of more pain. I wanted to hide them from myself. "Her second birthday would be coming up. When will it stop hurting? It hurts every day. I try to think about the future and make plans but then I think, what's the point?" I saw his face. His eyes were welled up. Our tears were interrupted by Django (who had gone along for the ride). He went on full alert when he saw a short, pudgy dog in our neighborhood. He started to make his muffled barking sound. Jeremy and I laughed. "So tough."

My mind wandered to one of my friends who had lost a daughter. How does she do it? How does she keep on going? And not just her. Everyone. We all have this pain and loss and grief, and we keep on going. How do we do it? We just do. We just do.