We leave for vacation today. Without Frank. All I can think about is the day my in-laws first talked about this vacation with us. It was a day or two after finding out that we would likely lose Frank. I was still in the hospital with the doctors working hard to get my blood pressure under control. Matt's mom and dad mentioned vacation and all I could do was cry.
What is the point, I thought, if Frank won't be there? What does it matter, these plans, when everything is ruined? I know they were trying to give us something to look forward to but we were far too devastated to think of vacation.
And now it's here and I don't know what to feel. I stopped by Frank's grave earlier to let him know where we're going. I wish I didn't have to do that. Instead we should be trying to figure out how to fit all the baby stuff into our car. We should be worrying about his first "big" trip. We should be exhausted and flustered and happy. We should be together. Period. I know we'll have moments of joy on this vacation but, damn, I wish things were different. I miss Frank.
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