Jan 18, 2012 11:21
like that time we took lou out in her snow suit that was almost already too small, and you held her arms like she was a puppet. before she could walk, remember?
and the next winter when we taught her to throw snowballs and we each rolled one part of the snowman.
this morning we walked out solemly, quiet. we talked softly about four wheel drive and you reminded me to take my foot off the gas when I round corners. the snow was late this year, January 18th. like everything the world is changing and we feel it.
last night we agreed you would move out. it wasn't sad. it was simple and we knew it was coming. we talked calmly, mostly, about where you will go, probably to your brothers until the baby is born. by then we will get our taxes back. split right down the middle. i can keep the tv, you said, and you will get the laptop.
my dad and uncle will move in and pay your half of the mortgage, and in 2 years when we sell this place you will get half the equity, 50/50.
you will put 300 dollars a month into an account for lou so you can see where the money goes - i never cared about it anyway.
and it has come to this sort of end. every other weekends, and holidays, and awkward family moments. hurried hellos and goodbyes.