Will picked up Patrick's cremains today, and had my pendant filled and sealed. I didn't think I would be able to even look at the box, but I wanted to, and did, it's just a cardboard bx, with a big label with his name on it. That took a deep breath to read. I finally opened it to find.... a ziplock baggie. Don't ask me why I found that funny. All that heartbreak, all that drama, all that hurt, and pain, and worry, all rolled up into a neat little self sealing bag. Chew one THAT one for a while.
My son should not be in a box on my kitchen table right now. My son should be in my belly, warm and safe and cozy. But it wasn't meant to be that way. So, we ate dinner with him nearby, and a little part of him hangs near my heart. And breaks it over and over again. And yet, fills it with love, that I got to see his little tiny STOLEN nose (it was mine first!!) and daddy's big ears.
With one breath, he stole all of mine. But I can't cry today. It feels like it's going to come, but doesn't. I don't he wants me to cry today. It's a good day, he is home.
On the flip side, I had a yummy before bed snack of a caramel apple, topped with an Ambien chaser (no, my prescription did not get filled, I just have a generous grandma, on the same meds). I'm off to try, once again, to get some much needed sleep. And perhaps let out a few of the tears brimming beneath the surface.