I love you so much sweetheart. I find myself trying to keep busy. I guess that's a part of grieving. No matter what I do though, your memory never escapes me. I love thinking of you though. I wonder about the conversations you have with Jesus. Sometimes I like to think that you talk about me as much as I think about you.
The other day, a close friend of mine came over. I hadn't seen her in a while, but we always kept in touch. We caught up, laughed and talked about you of course.
There were times during the conversation where I fought back tears. There were times when I smiled a motherly smile. The kind of smile where you feel your heart soften and you have an "awww" moment. There were times I cried and smiled at the same time. But she didn't mind.
She asked how you looked; I began to smile again. This time much bigger. I simply told her to imagine me with a smaller face and in the body of a newborn baby. She smiled too.
As the conversation about you became more intense, I found myself getting my box, I mean, your box of memories. I have all the passionate letters I wrote to you, your pictures, your blanket, flowers, unread sympathy cards, poems, and things alike.
Your box hadn't been opened in weeks. Every time I open your box, I always feel a different emotion. This time I felt happiness mixed with sadness. I'm not sure what anyone would call that. I was happy to be opening your box, your memories, and most of all sharing them with someone other than myself, but I was sad to be opening your box of memories. If that makes sense.
I showed her my favorite picture of you. The picture that was taken moments after you were born still. She said
"He has your eyes.."
...and you did.
Your eyes are, I mean, were so beautiful Cam.
I showed her the program from your memorial and I watched as she read the heartfelt letter I wrote to you that was displayed on the back of the program. Her eyes became glossy. It was hard to watch.
I don't mean to make people upset when they ask about you. I think that's why I fight back tears. I try to make people see how strong I am. So they don't get so upset. I don't know.
I guess what I'm trying to say is sharing the tangible parts of your memory for the first time was very...refreshing. Although it was hard sharing with someone who has never experienced this tragedy, it was nice sharing a piece of you with someone who is close to me. It was beautiful seeing someone look at you and know that they wouldn't judge or compare you to other babies. It made me feel good hearing someone say how beautiful you are, I mean, were and know they really meant it.
I loved that moment I shared with her. And I think it helped me. I think opening your box with someone else helped me know it's ok and I'm not alone. It showed me that the weight of the top won't be as heavy if someone is there to help my lift it. And that it's ok to sometimes invite someone in to share these sacred memories.
I love you Cam.
Love Always,
Mommy
No comments:
Post a Comment