There are moments when all I can do is say, "Jesus, I miss Andrew. Please hug him for me and tell him I love him and I hope to see him soon."
My husband and I have talked about how we feel so differently about some areas of our lives now. And my response is that it is all a part of the grieving and we just have to move through it.
"Oh my sweet boy, how my heart longs for you. If tears could bring you back you would be next to me now. But it just doesn't work that way."
I had a dream last night that I had a baby girl. I named her Andi for Andrew. Her second name was Honore (prononced ON or ay). French for "honor." The name Andi Honore is not a name I have ever put together. Ever. And although I had French classes in college (language degree), I don't remember ever using the name "Honore." Odd.
Andrew never liked to be called Andy or Drew. Of course, in the hospitals he was asked a million times what he went by.
He got sick of it. We got sick of it.
The only thing I can think of is that this dream was symbolic of newness in my life. Newness that will honor Andrew's life. I'm ready for a new dream. I'm ready.
"Andrew Christopher Dorsey, I love you and I long for you. One more morning. One day closer, Son."
Andrew & Me at an outdoor Art Show (spring 2009)
This picture is my screen saver.