Today marks five months since Pedro died. I'm not exactly sure why I pay particular attention to the months because every day holds it's moments of sadness or tears or reflection - or even joyful memories. I suppose it's just natural to mark the passing of time.
Sometimes, when a memory strikes me especially and I stop in my tracks and can.not.believe.he.is.gone., I feel more like a character in a story than myself. It's part of the disbelief. I simply can't believe that he is really gone and I am really having these experiences. Surely this only happens in the books I read or the movies I watch. At the very least, only to other people who's loss I sympathize with but cannot imagine.
Tonight, of all things, I was using a pressure cooker for the first time, and had been told in no uncertain terms, that there must be at least 1 1/4" of space from the water to the rim. My pot looked awfully full so I grabbed the ruler that always sits in the shelf in order to measure the space.
As I looked at it, I read the message you can hopefully read in the photo above. "Mana Laura heart's God and Pedro" Except he ran out of room for the "o" so it really says, "Mana Laura heart's God and Pedr."
Oh, my dear sweet boy. How true. How very true.