The last few days have been bittersweet. We received the pictures taken of Austin in the hospital, and we picked up Austin from the funeral home.I am glad to have him home. It’s oddly comforting, but at the same time, this isn’t what bringing the baby home is supposed to mean. We should have fat, warm cheeks, not the cold marble corners of an urn. I want to hear him cry and coo, and this perversion of our dream just doesn’t seem fair.
I find myself gazing at those pictures, imagining that Austin has merely fallen asleep, dozed off slowly the way his daddy does.Unfortunately, the logical part of my brain keeps overriding my imagination, and I’m brought back to the cold facts.
It’s a weekend, which means that at least there will be people around to help the days pass- family during the day and friends in the evening. I think Scott alluded to this in his last post, but it feels like our days are filled only to make them pass more quickly. Sometimes I wonder, just what are we racing to?
- Marci