Last year on my birthday, Mrs. Spit was well into her pregnancy. Things were going well, with everything seeming to be peachy keen. I was keenly aware of the fact that come my next birthday, I would have an infant child to care for.
It was really hard, when my next birthday did roll around, to remember that 10 months earlier, I held my newborn son for the half hour of life that he shared with us. The keen edge has been taken off of this blade, but it still cuts and still hurts.
He will always be with me, and I shall always remember him. The tiny boy who came before his time, and who left us far too soon.
2 comments:
((hugs)) to you Mr. Spit.
The name in the sand, ephemeral, is gorgeous.
It is heartening to hear that it is getting less acutely painful for you, not dull and never will, but less.
This is beautiful. The knife will always cut. Not as deep but yes, it will always be there. Gabriel is now with us all, all of the time.
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