Day 75 (Mon 19th June 2006): Papa misses mummy very much. Too much. He wishes she was here for me too. Especially during the day when he is at work. He feels guilty for the separation that I have to endure. He says that mummy would have made my days richer. She would have surrounded me with a rich tapestry of love and affection. She had prepared a coronation worthy of the most exalted king. She had so much planned. Papa says that in typical fashion, mummy's preparations for my arrival had been thoughtful and meticulously executed. One of the things she had bought plenty of, were "breast pads". She eagerly anticipated the day she could offer me the most intimate act of love only a mother could offer her child. Those same pads now sit in their stiff unopened boxes. They look so out of place and serve only to heighten papa's sense of loss. Papa has since donated them to someone who needs it more.
He says that mummy had been fastiduous in her packing and arranging of my things, just as she had always been with everything else in her life. All my clothes had been neatly stacked in the drawers. Baby things I would need later had already been arranged in a certain order of priority. According to papa, mummy was an excellent packer. Much better than he will ever be. Papa says that it was probably because of her superior mathematical brain. It allowed her to see patterns that papa couldn't. It was also why she was such a brilliant musician. Papa muses that she was always the one breaking the time-records for 'mine sweeper', a game of calculation that she used to love. Mummy used to do all the packing for their holidays too. She could pack so well. It always amazed papa how much she could stuff into one bag without wasting any space. She was so good at it that she could routinely pack wine bottles into the luggage on homeward journeys and have them safely arrive. She prided herself on the fact that out of the numerous trips they had made, not one bottle had been broken. Papa admits he was a quiet but ardent admirer of her superior packing and planning abilities.
Papa says that missing mummy is so hard to do. Her absence screams loudly in his ears every second of the day. He misses the warmth of her love and the silent, reassuring inner strength that she effused. Most of all, he misses the spontaneous coupling of emotional and physical intimacy that would entwine them each day. Their marriage had been enjoying a period of sunshine up till then, and papa looked forward to this evolution as a couple, like a plant to water. That is what makes the current isolation so hard to bare with. Even though he is surrounded by so many loving people, papa says that his sense of lonliness remains unsurpassed. Mummy dearest, don't go too far ahead of us, will you? We don't want to lose you mummy.
Wow packing must be a family talent. Your Uncle Bernie packs not just space efficiently but to within 500g of the weight limit! Sadly he's not neat with things around the home...You can hone your packing talent too : start with nesting cups/boxes!!
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