We didn't venture out at all yesterday. It was a quiet lazy day at home (well as quiet and lazy as they come with three kiddos). The day marked a year since my dad died. A whole year. A year and a half since I'd actually seen him. Leeloo was only three months old then. So very little and different from who she is now. I see a lot of him in her, she's smiley and clumsy, social and stubborn. I think he would have totally gotten a kick out of her little personality.
The memory of Mia has been wafting about as well. I think about her everyday, but people don't usually talk about her that much. Kinda a taboo I suppose, to acknowledge the dead child. The boys don't know that norm so they mention her often. It's sweet - they accept that she was a full part of the family and know that we are missing her.
It didn't occur to me that adding a large mirror to the chiquita's room would make me ache. Like most kids she's loves to flirt with herself. She talks to her reflection and kisses it and dances, it's all very fun. Except that I can see both of them there. My girls. Playing together.
I suppose the longing for what was will always be there. I choose to live in the what is instead.