You turned four months old today. Happy Birthday! I wish you were here. Halloween was last week, and we survived. I missed you so much, but I did my best to put on a brave face for your big sister. Thanksgiving is two weeks from tomorrow, and I have been bracing myself for weeks. I really don't know how I am going to get through it without you. I have so much to be thankful for, but all I can think about is YOU, how you're not here, and how UN-thankful I am for that. All I want to do on that day is crawl into a hole, or stay in bed, or go sit at the hospital. If it weren't for your daddy and your big sister, I would do just that. I am going to try very hard to go to the hospital and/or go for a long run in the desert that day.
A few days ago, I decorated your urn for Thanksgiving. Here you are with your daddy and I on your urn with you and your big sister's baby picture in the background:
It seems so inadequate, but YOU are not here, so what else can I do?
The bouganvilla in our backyard is blooming nicely, attracting a neon-yellow butterfly. I have seen it a few times, and it always makes me think of you.
We light a candle for you every night, usually after Caroline goes to bed. Do you see it? Tonight, your daddy got home a little late, and Caroline and I were already eating. I reminded him that today was your four-month birthday. Caroline piped up, "I want to sing Happy Birthday to Baby Weston." What a great idea! So I lit the candle then, and we sang to you. I got all choked up, of course, but held it together for Caroline.
Caroline remembers the memorial service we had for you. She calls it "the chapel," because we had the service at a chapel. We played a special song, "Breath of Heaven," which she calls the "chapel song." I hope she always thinks of you when she hears it. Today she started naming our family and friends who were there. I am so glad that she remembers. Did you know that she sleeps with two of your blankets every day for her nap? One is thin, and the other is thick; we call them the "little Weston blanket" and the "big Weston blanket."
I finally finished painting your chest last week. It looks really good. The inside is still a disorganized disaster, but I can't bring myself to go through it yet.
You are part of everything we do. You are part of our family. You are part of me. I love you. I miss you. I hope you know that.
I recently heard on This American Life a piece about DNA and cells. Scientists have recently discovered that our children's DNA stays with us even after we give birth all the way until the end of our lives.
ReplyDeleteThey have also found that oftentimes when we (mothers) contract or develop diseases it is the very cells of our children in our bodies who combat and fight those diseases most effectively.
So, you see, Weston is still there with you, just as much as you are with him. And he always will be.
~Deanna