I don't like to talk about those days, the moment following. The beginning of the end of what my life once was. I really don't like those days. But this moment it keeps resonating in the crevices of my mind. Rolling around making me relive, think, breathe it all in again.
My Mom, she sat there with him in her arms. She cried. Of course she cried she was holding her grandson who was not alive. She just kept repeating he is so cold, he is so cold. It made me angry. I wanted to tell her to shutup.
I didn't, what was the point? I told her, of course he is cold. They have kept him in the morgue. It is to keep his body preserved for us. I asked her to give him back to me. I was in robot mode. All business in my hospital gown with my face wiped clean of tears from the day.
I have a picture of this moment. This little life that I held in my arms as my heart wept. His skin was so perfect. I can't describe it it was almost as if he was a little porcelin doll that I held in my arms. Perfect red lips, white skin alive yet not present. He was cold but he was not. I couldn't explain this to anyone who has not been in my shoes. But at that moment he was alive for me. No breath escaped his lips but he was alive. I rocked him back and forth without a word. I held him as long as I could because I knew this would be the last time.
I told my husband you have to take him. You have to really take him from me because I won't be able to let go.
I wish I had smiled at him. I keep thinking I never smiled the whole time. I wish I had smiled at him because he was perfect and so worthy of my smiles. He deserved that.
This going back and thinking about the what ifs and I should haves. It is not easy. I know it is a broken bridge I walk on and everytime another board falls. Eventually I won't be able to cross there anymore. I won't be able to touch that place of what ifs. I will have to let it go but right now, I still return there often.