It is getting harder and harder going back to that house. Yes, we are moving soon, but everything is a process. You can no longer go in to a leasing office, get approved, pay a small deposit, and walk out with a key. Now they want a verification letter for this, income about four times the amount of rent, your life, your soul, your will. The desperation is real. It’s not that we are trying to forget. That will never happen. Emrys was, and will forever be, the most beautiful gift. Our Divine Gift.
Yesterday, August 24, 2024, I got up, got my bag ready so I could dress for my work meeting when we arrived at that house, and woke Juju up. Another day of having to go there. My body felt heavy, my chest tight, and my breathing rapid. I felt the panic bubbling just beneath the surface. In fact, as I sit here writing, I can feel the panic ripping through my skin. It wont be long now.
I try to think about the new place, and I can feel the touch of his tiny hand on my cheek. Emrys would have loved the new place. When he was born, I vowed that we would be in a new place by September 1, 2024. We are doing it, and we will carry his angelic urn inside.
This thought burns in my mind as I do my best to drive Juju and I safely to that nightmare that mocks us. I pull up, and as is now customary, we sit in the car, deep in thought, not wanting to go in.
We got out of the car, and walked through the gate. We see a box. We don’t know who it is from, but it is sitting there, with my name on it, just waiting to be opened. Juju carried it to that room, my old room, the room where I can no longer rest, and we opened it!
Inside was the cutest, but goofiest bear I have ever seen. He had a lavender bow tied around his neck. And there was a card. A heartfelt message from another mother who has lost her little one as well. A Small Gift for comfort during the storm that is brewing as we approach three months without Emrys.
