Seven years ago we took our son #1 home from the NICU after a 53 day stay (he was born 10.5 weeks early). At the time I thought it was the worst thing to ever happen to us. I remember leaving the hospital without the baby and bawling. Going back and forth, pumping, having to wait days before I could even hold him. Feeding tubes. Brain bleeds. In hindsight it was such a miniscule experience in the grand scheme of pain and trauma. Kenneth was always such a doting dad.
He did karate with our son.
This picture was taken when the baby was 3 months old. When I look at it I think about the days of innocence, when “this” reality wasn’t even a tiny idea in my mind. It was inconceivable.
I remember that time we got to meet Neil Gaiman. Kenneth monopolized his attention, in deep discussion over writing practices.
The birth of our third child. We actually wanted 4!
Our first Christmas together in the apartment I hated, although we were walking distance from the beach. Those were the days.
We went camping every year.
And now…this. Visiting him on Sundays. The baby waves to him and says “Bye Da Da! Bye! Bye Da Da!” People routinely stare at us with tears in their eyes.
Teresa Shimogawa 
Teresa…..I lost my husband of 47 years last May. I have been reading your posts for several weeks and can’t begin to imagine how you are managing to keep everything together, in your busy world, after suffering such a terrible loss. Being a young working mom, with three little children to care for and nurture, as you mourn the loss of your wonderful husband, is absolutely heartbreaking. Life is so unfair, you have so much to deal with. I know your blog is your therapy, but it is also mine. Even though the circumstances of our husband’s deaths are very different, I had my husband for 47 years, our kids are married, he was with me during the tough times, we got through the various stages of raising our kids together, I had him to turn to for advice and help. I think of you every day. When I feel sorry for myself, I think of you, and how hard your new reality is. Your blog has helped me so much, thank you for sharing your story and your life.
Maryann Carpenter
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Thank you for your comment, Maryann. It is so hard not having that person to turn to, isn’t it? Even though I kind of like having full control over decision-making, I still long to have that extra pair of eyes and ears to turn to when doing things. Losing the companionship is just a reality none of us are adequately prepared for no matter how long we were with the person.
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