For whatever reason kids are drawn to hubs. All of them, from toddlers to teenagers. He regularly plays legos, video games, dolls, cars, board games, whatever. Heck, around Christmas my then almost four year old niece painted his nails a lovely shade of obnoxious pink with glitter and he proudly wore it for a couple of days. He's always the guy the nieces and nephews go to if they want to read a book, help with homework, or learn something new.
On Saturday we went to one of those paint your own pottery places, where you pick a piece of unpainted pottery and different glazes, paint it however you choose, and then pick up the finished product in a week. As we were sitting there painting a mother and her daughter (maybe 3) walked in to the shop to pick something up. The little girl honed right in on hubs, walked up to him, and stood and watched him quietly for a minute before starting to ask him approximately 724698014932 questions about what he was painting and why he was painting it. He patiently answered her questions as he sat there painting. It lasted maybe five minutes before they left, but it was absolutely adorable to witness.
As I reflected on the day I realized that the experience wasn't a painful one. I didn't at any point feel that familiar pang of "my husband would have been such a great dad and now he won't be because of me." Instead I felt pride that my husband took a few minutes to make a little girl's day. He would have been an amazing dad and he won't get that opportunity, but he will get many opportunities to make a difference in the lives of other people's kids, even if it's just a couple of minutes in a pottery shop.
It was a great day. When the progress of acceptance seems slow (or maybe even stalled or going the wrong direction) it's frustrating. Most of the week before had been rough and left me feeling pretty raw and vulnerable, but then Saturday happened and not only did it not hurt, but it left me feeling happy. It's times like this where I know that everything will be ok.
My sister called me on Friday and asked if I would come and support her in the delivery room. I'm the oldest and she's the youngest, at 10 years younger than I am. She's always viewed me as more of a parental influence than as a big sister. I told her that I wouldn't be able to, but that I'd be thinking about her and have my fingers crossed when the time came and would be waiting by the phone for news. She didn't push or beg. It was hard to tell her no because I've always been there for her, but I knew that's what I had to do. I'll be there for her, just not in person. It wouldn't have been fair to me to put myself in that situation.