Mementos

He is still here.  He is right here, he will always be here.  I do not doubt that he is still my son, shining down on me, telling me that he does love me and he did want to stay.   I know that I could not save him, that even though I wished so hard I could not keep him here in his body.  But even so he is still here, permeated throughout everything I know.  I can look around at so many items that speak in his honor.  Willow Tree figurines of faceless angels holding tiny sculptures representing not only Marcellus but of hope in general.  Hope that he is with the angels, waiting for the day when we come home to him.

But one thing that touches me more than all of the mementos we have of him is the castings of his hands and feet.  Done by Tawny and Patty after he died they are life sized exact models of his hands and feet.  Complete with the lines in his skin.  Due to his dehydration from dying they are very wrinkly.  But even so they are held in a position that could replicate him sleeping.  I pass by them a lot more since they are on the mantle above the fireplace.  They are like little hands reaching out to grab me and remind me that he was here in body not just in spirit.  2 Minutes after he was born I gave him my finger to hold and he grabbed on to it to say 'daddy, I am here, even though I am early, I am here with you!"  That moment could be the best moment in my life.  The bond between father and son was created at that particular moment in time.  I wish for that bond again in life so dearly, everytime I walk by I rest my finger that he held in the hand molding, to bring myself back to where I was so long ago.  Sometimes I wish he would take control of the model of his hand for a brief moment and grab my finger again.  I wish for any moment in life where he lets me know that he is ok. 

I believe he is ok, that some angel is cradling him, waiting for us to get there and take over.  I also believe he is here, weaved into my spirit, guiding me through this terrible existence I must now endure.  I just wish he was here with us, putting up with our guided attempts at parenting.  I wish bottles, diapers, toys, and baby monitors were his mementos, things that remind us of him.  Things that he should be using, not stuffed in the closet or the dresser drawer awaiting first use hopefully some day.  Replaced with these items with his name printed, we must suffice with them until we can hold him in heaven.