I replay this day over and over in my mind.
It still seems
but so so very sunny and bright.
Yet here I am two years later on another beautiful bright sunny day and you're still not here.
I certainly didn't dream you.
I'm not sure whether it was shock or a million and one medications or just a general knowing and acceptance right from the start that this day would be coming.
Creeping ever so slowly yet so fast it hits you like a tonne of bricks when it does.
11 days old, so perfect and whole yet so empty
The day we relieved you of the medical machine
The day we got to hold you until our arms ached
The day I used every last bit of strength to be there for you.
9 more hours to see you
to remember you
to touch you
to bathe you
to dress you
9 more hours to fuss
to worry about your cold feet
to make sure you were always held
For 9 hours you were never alone
9 hours until you slowly faded
I'm alone today
My mind is replaying the last day I spent with you
What do I do today, now that I am alone?
Or are you here, somewhere?
I'm not sure that's ever comforted me
I think you are in the ocean
Maybe I'll see you there?
Maybe I'll send you flowers into the waves
Maybe I'll go to sleep and dream of you
Maybe I'll just be alone today and remember you