it must be love

IT MUST BE LOVE
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One note. That is all it takes of this instrumentation to break my heart wide open and in rushes a flood of memories. It is strange how melodies hold so much emotion and transport you so quickly to another time and place. Ryan asked me the other day why I cry every time they play this commercial. The simplest answer, which I gave him, is that I miss Ben. The longer, grief-filled answer is that I want our old life back. I want to go back to the time when our first born was here, when we had hope, when we didn’t have to live with the weight of his absence, when there wasn’t a huge hole in my heart and in our family.

So as the US Open kicks off, we are missing Ben acutely. As I have said before, his interests probably would have ebbed and changed. Seven is very different than 3 ½. But this is where we were left with him. This is what he loved in his final months here – to watch his favorite players. To root on Roger. To shout for Rafa.

I’m guessing Ben has a better seat now then he did on our couch. I imagine his little angel-spirit-self following Roger through the locker room and onto the court. Crouching near the umpire’s chair, with a big smile on his face he is saying, “Mom – this is so cool!” And yet his absence on my couch could not be more apparent. The emptiness in our house awakened.

It must be love – hence why it hurts so much to separated from him. Still.