Four years ago, I was at home preparing to go to my son’s funeral. I have been up most of the night. I just returned from getting my hair done. I have thick, straight, baby fine hair. It does what it does and I have the best hairdresser, that made the day far less stressful.
The day mostly is a blur. Arriving at the funeral home. The drive and surrounding drives were packed with cars. My pastor was warned. There could be 10 or there could be 100. As it was, I believe there were 170+ people there that day. Our pastor had married us 8 years previous and used many of the same scriptures from our wedding day. It had great meaning for my husband and I.
We then made the 10 minute drive to his grave. We had internment followed by my husband reading his last bedtime story. Then it was over. There we stood hand in hand. Looking into the grave of our only child.
This photo is etched into our son’s headstone.
Today feels much the same. The weather is a bit darker. However, there is a breeze. The emptiness, dread and sense of nothingness has not changed in 4 years. No matter, the time, the space, the distance. A grieving parent cannot outrun, out travel these thoughts, these feelings.
Today, I thank God I had 19 days with our beautiful son. Today, I am grateful to be able to call myself his mother. Today, I feel like the single biggest failure.
You remember those moments. Those thoughts. Those dreams. You remember each and every wish and demand. I begged God to take me instead of him. I begged him to protect his life. I begged him for my husband’s sake to protect his only child. When you have sat vigil at your child’s side watching and protecting them. Begging for their life only to have to beg God to take them from this world so that they will suffer no more. Time does not matter. Whether, they lived a day, a week, 19 days or 20 years. It is your child. Your life.
On the weekend, my husband and I went to town to get my summer flowers. I have many perennial beds and I do up a few pots for around the drive. In the 2 hours we were in town, we came across 3 different families that were in our prenatal class with us. Each of them now have 2 children. The reminders, the constants are always every present in our lives. It was difficult. I told my husband that I was ready, I needed to go home now..
These past 6 weeks much has taken place. Our cousin that was expecting. She had started contracting at 20 weeks 5 days and was hospitalized. She got ill the first week of April and delivered at 28 weeks 5 days. He weighed 3 lb s 3.08 oz and 15″ long. He has done well and is over 5 lbs. These weeks watching and knowing from afar have not been easy. They are most fortunate. No infections, no assisted breathing from day 1. One hopes so much they truly do understand just how fortunate they are.
I will be having a nephew come September. My sister is doing well. I knew in my heart it was a boy when she told me 10 weeks ago. It seems I am correct. All tests are great. She is nearing 39 and opted for amnio. Now, I mentally just look toward the markers, week 28, week 32.
Tonight, I will drive up the road to his grave. I will say goodnight and blow him a kiss. I will tell him that I love him so very much.