The smell of syrup always reminds me of Grey.
Grey would sit forever in his highchair if anything with syrup on it was in front of him. He would pick up a piece of waffle, pancake, French toast, and put it in his mouth. The would suck all the syrup off of it, then spit it out. It became a game between he and Bill. Bill would warn him, "You better not spit that out!" Grey would look at him with those huge, mischievous eyes and the grin that matched, and spit away.
The picture below was taken during one of their interactions.
Today also marks that day that we have spent more time without Grey than with him. He's been gone 11 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days. My heart aches for him. My mind races to find anything else to think about. And . . . December 4th last year was the day we called on Hope Hospice. December 4th was the day we signed Grey's DNR. It's been a rough day.
But today is also the day we'll celebrate Bill's 41st birthday (a day late so more family could make it). Celebrate we will, because life is short but sweet for certain.
As I got in the truck this morning and pulled out of the driveway, my red cardinal flew in front of me. I know he's still here with me.