The Years Keep Going.

I've realized I haven't written one of these in a while. A long while. I think Covid really messed with so, so much I haven't stopped to think on these. Wren's in school, doing his absolute best to handle being around other kids and the like. Turns out he is autistic, high function and the like, but autistic. It was something I dreaded because the choice the wife and I made was to give one of our sons the best chance to be healthy and whole. What miniscule chance they'd have to survive had an even more miniscule chance for them to even be whole, let alone healthy.

And oddly, I didn't care. There was no dread as something I had hoped, prayed wasn't going to happen after what we had chosen happened, I shrugged it off. Wren is one of the happiest children I've ever seen. He has trouble with understanding conversation if it's not a literal thing ( sarcasm, reading between the lines, not something he's picked up on and probably won't completely.)

But he's having a blast. He makes friends at school, is in kindergarten but is reading like a second grader and doing math equations far beyond his grade. He's happy. He's healthy. Him being autistic hasn't changed anything, except for us now being able to better help and understand him.

I've been so focused on living, on him being happy, I've actually forgotten what day it was we lost Garrick. I know the year. I know it was in spring, but the day, the month, that the wife and I used to spend together to mourne, we didn't this year. I'm pretty sure it's passed, or maybe it's even this month. Garrick is always around my neck, in a simple little necklace charm. I haven't forgotten him, I haven't stopped wondering now and then what it'd be like if he was here. It's just not as oppressive as it once was. I suppose I reached the point of acceptance with this loss.



Also Wren is absolutely a gamer like his parents. We've been playing Sunderfolk. Definitely recommend the game.