On Saturday, Frederick will be one year old. (How did that happen?) Three Saturdays after that, it will be Phineas's should be 2nd birthday. I have been counting down to these dates for a couple months. These two March babies, their existence so intertwined.
In the early days, I remember counting the days beyond his birth, beyond his passing. One day, three days, twenty. Soon, it became weeks, I don't think I got much past ten, but every Friday would sneak up as a reminder that I had lived another week without him. And so, it goes. Months were what I counted and when I reached the horrible time that was 18 months since his birth, I stopped. Then I started to countdown to two years. Here we are now, a matter of days away and slowly, slowly, his life and death is starting to weave itself into our everyday lives. I read this piece today and pondered whether I had crossed into mourning. I think I have. Please, go read it, it's really good.
Tonight Nate switched some photos over to my computer from his and among them were the pictures we took of him. They did not paralyze me, they even made me smile a bit. My son, my son. I thought of how he might look now. How he would look similar and different to his siblings. How he'd fit in. My arms don't ache like they used to, they are usually full, but there are moments, many, when I wish I had a toddler to snuggle.
Now, I must figure out how to honor him properly on his day, to help our growing girls to know about their brother. I am working on it. Struggling some days, succeeding others. I feel heartened that I can do it, that I will be a good mother to him and all his siblings. The counting up and counting down will never stop, his time and the present growing further apart. I am holding him close, though, now and always.
Read more...
