Sunday, May 30, 2010


I shouldn't be surprised by the things that make my heart stop, but they catch me off guard and bring me to my knees, literally.

The one week anniversary. I didn't know it was the time, my body knew. I couldn't breathe. The hardest grief yet.

Someone screaming.

Picking up Gabe's little fire hat to smell it and finding the scent of. . . not him.

His orange guy that did have Gabe's little scent. {Gabe perfume. Love it.}

Turning my computer on and finding the screensaver gone (my screensaver is the black and white photo of the three little pairs of feet). It was like a cruel joke. It has never happened before. I panicked. where is it, where is it, where is the picture, what happened? By the time I sat down to retrieve the original photo, the screensaver reappeared, but I was shaken and scared.

Seeing his obituary. {baby and obituary - those words together just don't compute in my brain}

Waking up in a cold sweat, thinking I heard his cry.

Not being able to remember his voice and his little talks.

Seeing Cambria holding my niece and for one nano-second my heart thinking she was holding Gabe.

Finding a diaper in one of my purses.

Hoping I do find something of his in the laundry.

Hearing sirens.

It's going to be a long road.

1 comment:

  1. when I let my mind go there, those are exactly the things that I picture. The things that would be the hardest. Tearing down an empty crib, putting away his clothes (forever), finding a one of his toys stuffed in the couch, those little, yet big things we grieve. Oh, friend. Hang on. That's all I can say. I'm praying and my heart is broken for you.