all we see is love

 

There is so much love here. So much love.

Maybe that is why it's feeling hard for him to let go. There is too much here to hang on to, too many hugs, too many laughs, too many bright souls who keep taking care of us when we can give absolutely nothing back excepted a mumbled "thank you" between cry-fests. 

People we adore (who also happen to have kids we adore at the studio) partnered with our neighbor Tom to do yard work for us. YARD WORK. Our yard hasn't looked this good since the day we bought it, I doubt it looked this good in the ads when we bought it. I'm sort of terrified it will never look this good again, but right now we are really enjoying it. It looks like love.

Rico's big brother flew up from Georgia. Did you know there were two Rico's? OK - clearly Rico is one-of-a-kind, but you can definitely tell Paul and Rico are related. 

One morning, Rico and I were lying in bed and he was lamenting that he would never again bring me flowers, or bring me iced tea, or anything at all. I held him and told him I didn't want anything at all, that he had already given me more than I ever dreamed - the chance to find my authentic self; to heal my childhood trauma; to know the deepest kind of love; and to hold his hand through this part of his life. But it wasn't enough for him. He asked for his phone and called his friend and business associate Michael. He asked "Do I have one more New York solid? One more favor?" The next morning, Michael showed up with a box of my very favorite coffee cake (and muffins, and shortbreads - and everything amazing). 

Our neighbor Tom picked these two flowers from the rosebush Rico planted for me last year. He said, "These two flowers represent you and Rico. They don't last long, but they sure are beautiful together." He brought Rico their traditional Mc Donald's coffee and even remembered to bring me an unsweetened iced tea - because he knew Rico always brought one home for me. 

Jason and Leah were here for a few days, so Rico was surrounded by all five of his kids for a few days. 

He was able to hug his childhood friend Frank, and share a meal of Frank's famous meatballs and macaroni with the whole family. He's still enjoying the leftovers.

We received this edict on our front porch from a kid/family we love. It was accompanied by two loaves of the most delicious banana bread we'd ever had. We actually appreciated that it didn't come with sympathetic platitudes, and instead just gave us some direction in life - "eat dammit!" So we did.

Rico loves every single comment you make on the blog (I read them to him). 

He loves the cards you send, the notes you drop off.

He loves to hear live music playing.

He loves all the love you share.

We don't know how much time is left for him - for us together - but we have some estimates. We were told at the outset, that chemo and radiation could possibly give him 18 years; radiation alone 8 months; and if he did absolutely nothing - weeks. 

We have already used up one of them. 

Nothing is guaranteed, and whenever he is ready to go, we will send all of this love with him.