Remembering You

Photo Taken March 2020

     I looked at how much food I made today and realized I had once again cooked as if Frankie were coming home. He always made such a big deal when I was preparing dinner. He celebrated and praised everything I made. Even on those days where we didn't have much, to him, every meal was a feast. After coming home from the hospital, for a time, mom was cooking daily. It took time for me to be able to get into the flow of being able to just put a meal together again. Here I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and what do I do? Too much food. Who cooks so much and one of Frankie's favorite meals? 

     I've just begun trying to go back to normal. Truth is, there's no such place as normal anymore. With Father's day approaching, I have been blessed with parents, family, and some friends who make sure I never feel alone. Their presence, their calls, and those texts we share sometimes about nonsense, keep my mind busy when it wants to wander. Remembering is necessary, though. I wouldn't want to forget my past. Relationships have the hurts, the love, the hardships, and the forgiving all blended in like a bowl of soup or stew. So, we remember and all different kinds of emotions come to the surface and what we believed was numb, begins to feel again. 

     Dinner is almost done, and I remember a conversation earlier about missing my baby. I was referring to my grandson but my friend thought I was referring to my husband. Then it hit me hard because Frankie called me his baby. I called him hon. It seemed as if I heard his voice calling out to me and I almost saw his arms reaching out to me and pulling in for a hug and a kiss. Yup, I could have sworn I could almost hear his joking way of bothering me when I was busy. 

     I look in the mirror and dislike what I see. Covid did a work on me and I long for that day when I can feel and look somewhat decent again. Frankie made me believe I was beautiful on my worst days. I could be sick and he'd come in saying, "You're so beautiful, I love you!" In his eyes, even in the hospital, I was his beautiful girl. Those days will remain a precious memory. As I attempt to return to the things I was doing and the life I had pre-Covid, I realized that I miss him with everything inside of me. I thought I was starting to feel better, but I've read somewhere that we never really heal, we never forget. He was my best friend, the one who knew all about me, who made me laugh, who put up with my craziness, and fell asleep listening to my stories and my dreams. 

      Sometimes, we were silent, and we thanked God for being with us.  Sometimes, we prayed, hoped for a miracle, and held on to God because things happened that caused pain. Yet, through it all, God healed those areas in our lives that only He could heal. I guess, I am always going to miss you, Frankie. I believe I will have many days ahead where I won't get things right and there will be leftovers. 

                        
For today, I'll think of you telling me what you wish for for Father's day. I can almost imagine what you'd ask me to cook, and I would say, "You got it, hon." I'll send it up towards heaven from my heart. Hug our Heavenly Father for me and know that you are not forgotten this weekend. 

Happy Father's Day, Frankie. Love you, always.

One of our last photos together ~December 18, 2020