In Thought

Dearest Grey,

My head spins as I meet with, I don't even know who I'm meeting with . . . representatives, legislators, chiefs-of-staff. I listen to huge words and policies that I don't understand. I really should have paid more attention in my government class.

Oh Baby, I'm really trying not to be intimidated. I'm really trying to make you proud. I'm really trying to ensure that no baby, or baby's family, has to go through what we did. And then I stop to think.

Can I even believe that I am having to do this? It's not often that I stop and really let myself think of your loss. A little moment here, a little moment there. But always interrupted by the fear that if I do really think about your loss, I'll just lose myself within the deep hole in my heart.

Every night before I go to bed I walk into your room and just inhale. I touch your sheet and Oatmeal. I kiss your urn and then turn off the light that illuminates your picture with your footprint. I go to sleep with the TV on to occupy my mind until I drift off. You're the last thought I have at night, the first thought as I wake in the morning. But you are never in my dreams. For if we met there, I don't know that I would ever want to wake up. I know that you know, and I understand. I'm just not ready yet.

Love,
Forever Your Mom