Feelings Never Change

It has been almost 2 years since we held you last. The reality hit me like a truck this afternoon...

I miss you just as much right now as I did 2 years ago.

My body aches to feel you again. To see your smile. To kiss your fat face. They ache just as strongly now as they did 2 years ago.

The pain hasn't lessened, the longing hasn't passed...and I still think it is not fair that I can't leave work and pick you up for a fun filled weekend. Time hasn't healed any of our wounds. They still seep with longing, pain, and emptiness.

I can still envision the nightmare facing us at the end of the hallway at the hospital. Your tiny frame in a massive bed hooked to so many life saving devices. The incredible high of hearing your heart was beating; they'd revived you. Thinking there was a chance; only to be told that there wasn't. She had hurt you more than they could fix. That incredible low of knowing you wouldn't get to go home with us ever again.

I can still picture, as if it were happening at this very moment, your Mommy holding you so very close completely devastated and saying goodbye. I can hear her sobs, Grammy's, Squishy's...they haunt my memories. The cries from Scarlett when we had to tell her that her baby wasn't going to come home. He was in heaven. The kind of cries from a 5 year old that crush your soul. She still carries your baby with her everywhere. We still hug our John pillow when we need you.

I can see your Mommy hunched over your tiny body, and you seemed so very tiny, wishing more than anything she could take your place.

We all wish we could take your place.

I know what that wish entails, but it doesn't stop us from wishing it had never been you.

We still don't understand why it was you. Why someone would hurt such a sweet happy baby? I don't know that we ever will, and that is what makes not having you so much harder. Why our baby?

I still see your Mommy trying so hard to stand tall when she had to walk away from you, and leave you to strangers and doctors that didn't love you like we did. To know you were going to be carried away to a funeral home. A place no child should ever be, and no parent should ever have to visit.

I can still see us sitting around a table trying to find light in making Ninja Turtle funeral arrangements, and knowing all too well how much we would dread the day when it came. Once again having to leave you all along with strangers.

The hardest part was having to leave you alone.

I still feel the anxiety that rushes to my chest when I think about how badly I just wanted to take you and run. I know that makes zero sense. You weren't with us anymore, but I knew that I could take you home and love it all away. Or I wanted to believe I could.

I didn't want to leave you. I didn't want you to leave us.

I can still see your Mommy's shoulders shudder with tears as the preacher gave one helluva sermon at your services. Remember all the kind gestures, hugs and love we received from our community. The generosity.

I can remember sights, smells, conversations...

I remember you. Everyday. But it will never be enough. Not until we get to hold you again.

I will remember you forever and always, and I promise that I will make sure the world does too.

John William Smith...our forever baby.