It’s been four months since they told us you had died. It’s hard to believe you’ve been in Heaven now longer than you were in me. A third of a year. Has it been that long? It feels like yesterday.
I was looking at some photographs this afternoon, a general mish-mash, and there were some photos of your oldest sister on the day she was born. She was a good size, eight pounds, but looked so little. All new babies look so little to me. She had that brand-new look, slightly red. Then I came on a photo I didn’t even remember being taken. It was of Papa and me and your sister, all three together that day. Your sister had her fingers around one of Papa’s fingers. I looked at it and cried because we were so innocent then. We didn’t know what could happen, what would happen. I wish I’d been able to hold you like that, just for a day.
I lit a candle for you today. Actually, a few people lit candles for you today. I’m sure you already know. I asked the Mother of God to hold you for me.
I suppose there will be a time when the 30th of the month doesn’t remind me of your due date, the 31st doesn’t remind me of the day we found out and the 10th doesn’t remind me of the day you were born, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a long time coming. I think about you all the time. You would be seven months along now. So big. How much and how fast babies grow. Except you didn’t. Thank goodness I can remember your soul has no size.
I don’t have any photographs of you out because I’m afraid they will make people uncomfortable. You were really such a beautiful baby but because you were so small it scares some people. I also don’t have one really good picture of you, fully in focus, all of you, etc. I unearthed some good drawing pencils yesterday and resolved to draw a picture of you, using the photos together so I can get all the details. I still can’t believe I saw fingernails and tooth buds! You were so remarkable! Your tiny little ears were delightful.
Mommy loves you very much. One day…