It is the little things that get me. Rolando, Miss Universe, and I decided to cook supper at their house tonight and play a game of Sequence. It is the one game we can all agree on right now. Rolando wanted to know what kind of potatoes we should make to go with the bbq beef sandwiches. I was excited, it doesn't take much, about making French fries. I don't do much frying, so it always seems festive when I do. As I watched everybody coming in for plate after plate of fries my chest tightened and I had trouble catching my breath.
I knew if Jason were alive we would be doing this at my house. He was also one of those people who is easily pleased. Whenever I cooked his favorite foods he would act as if I had just built him a house. Sandwiches and fries were one of his favorite meals.  He would eat enough fries for 3 people. If there were any left he would eat them at two in the morning. A year ago, when he was healthy, he would have had several of his friends over. I would fry enough for all of them. The house would be full of noise and laughter.
Instead I am at home in a silent house. If not for this baby sleeping in my bed I would be all alone. I managed to calm myself several times this evening. By eleven thirty though I was ready to come home and cry myself to sleep.
I probably should explain why I have a baby in my bed, but that is a story for tomorrow.