Today I felt panic at the possibility of my memories fading. I had to look at your pictures, they made me cry but I had to see you again. I had to make myself imagine that you were only sleeping in them. They told us at the hospital that your eyes were brown, I believe them, even though I didn't see you open them. I saw your smile in one of the ultrasound pictures, but I don't know if you had your Daddy's dimple. Your hair was lighter than we thought it would be and it may have been curly. Your mouth was so tiny and it reminded me of the little Putti in Renaissance frescos. Raphael must have known you would be a baby angel long ago, and so he put you in his paintings.
So soon, I am faced with the fact that I will never know what your face would become. I see older boys, preschoolers, teenagers, young men, and I can't help but wonder which ones you would have looked the most like. I catch myself staring at strangers. I look into your sister's face for long moments while she sleeps and try to find you there. Her baby pictures make me cry now because in some of them I try to pretend that she is a boy. Oh Frost, I wish that I could dream of you every night and that each dream would be a day of your life. I wish that I could watch you grow and change while I sleep since I can't have you here. I wish that I could watch you from afar. I would be okay with that, everything would be okay if I could see you.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.
No comments:
Post a Comment