There's nothing (more) we can do...

And then when something more we can do happens, it feels absolutely wonderful.

A direction.

Right now, I personally don't have much direction. But that's okay. Be bored for a bit. Get antsy.

And enjoy this hit of beautiful, giving direction. (Thanks, PG)

Hallmark will never run out of money, as Hallmark tells us what to say when we don't know

You're setting a tone, an example, an opening, even if you don't know that you are

We're okay. We're not okay.

What we know..

We know that we got to keep him for 6 months.
We know that he would sigh in response to your sigh. Surprising me, and delighting me every time.
That his skin was the softest stuff.
That his lips were the sweetest.
That he could sly eye with the best.
That we loved him with all of our hearts.
That he taught us everything.
How to be more human. How to open up when it hurts, when it sucks to open up. Sometimes, it can be a choice, and I would never want to say no.

We don't know what caused his condition.
We don't know how much he saw.
We don't know ...much.

But we know.. we hope.. that he was more comfortable than he was uncomfortable. That he knew he was loved and loved and loved. We hope that's what he knew.

We miss him everyday and I can't worry about him any more. But I still think. I still do. My body was made to do that, as he is/was my son. And I miss him so.

Today, I watched Oscar walk off, big and tall, with his grandparents to go to the zoo. He didn't need us. Big and brave, and he's only three. This is how this stuff goes. 

I now understand why people might try, to keep a body, pristine and perfect, in a glass case, for everyone to look at.

I fell in love with his body while he was healthy and happy, I fell in love with his body when he was sick and growing, I fell in love with his body when he was not there, but still perfect.