Pieces

I went back to the place where Owen died yesterday. My nephews were born very early yesterday morning, each weighing in a 2 pounds 4 oz. They are doing very well, and are absolutely beautiful, but obviously have a long NICU stay ahead of them. They are about 3 or 4 doors down from room 220, where I last saw my baby. No baby is in the room now. I'm not sure if that would have made it easier, harder, or if it wouldn't have mattered. Part of me almost walked in and sat on the couch and cried, but instead I just stared at it. The smell of the NICU hit me just as hard as seeing that room. Baby smell... his smell.

Today has been one of the most difficult in a long time. I went to pick up Owen's things from the cemetery, as we do every month, so that the maintenance crew can mow and spruce things up. While I was there, I was amazed by how many dragonflies were there. I saw at least 7 or 8, and had never seen them at the cemetery before. I hope this was Owen telling me he was there.

Not 3 hours later, I went to get frozen yogurt with my mom and sister, and as we're walking up to the shop there is a little boy standing in front of the door. His mother says to him, "Owen, get out of the way, these people are trying to go in". So he scampers out of the way. Knife- right in the heart. As we ate out yogurt outside, that same family was leaving...
"Owen, slow down... Owen, come back here!"... I wanted to say the same things to my Owen... please, come back here. Those people got to keep their Owen, and I just want to keep mine too. As soon as I dropped off my mom and sister, I cried all the way home.

It seems like just living this life, without him, is like sitting around and waiting until the next thing happens to re-shatter my heart into it's millions of tiny pieces. I can't keep doing this over and over, it's too much.