I had a doctor's appointment for a regular check-up this morning and during the blood withdrawal the nurse and I spoke about Sunny and how he has brought home the cold from school several times this winter already. And how I always get sick, too, and while he bounces back rather quickly I have a stuffed nose for two weeks and just as I am healthy again the next cold is coming home from school. You know, just small talk like that.
Then, on the way home while driving in my car, the conversation replayed in my head and my thoughts started wandering. I thought about school and what it would be like if Sunny attended a regular school. Then my mind imagined Sunny sitting in his seat in my car after school, chattering away about everything and nothing that happened during the day.
And then my mind came to a screeching halt and a realisation hit me like a truck. I was not able to imagine Sunny chatting to me. I cannot imagine what it would be like if he could just talk to me about anything that is going on in his sweet little head or something that he saw, something that happened to him or things someone said to him. It is a scene my brain is not able to produce and that makes me so very sad. Because, obviously, it is unthinkable. Unimaginable. Because it is so far away from where we are today.
It all happened so quickly (like it always does when your mind jumps from one thought to the other within nanoseconds) but this realisation burst my heart into a million tiny little pieces and right now I am trying to collect those pieces and glue them together again with shaking hands.
It always astonishes me how some tiny moments hit me so hard although the facts are so known to me.