Day 29

This morning I awoke to a house filled with suffocating silence. I lay there as usual dreading the long day ahead. Felix was already at work. I heard a TV turn on and slowly made my way to the living room to check on Juliana.

She was laying on the sofa with one of her baby brother's baby blankets and two pictures of him. I began to move the pictures so I could sit beside her. She quickly interupted me. She wanted me to leave the pictures alone. She was pretending her brother was there with her.

How do I not crumble? What do I say? What I want most is to pretend with her. I want to say, "Great idea. Let's do it. Let's forget for a while." Instead, I sit on the other side of her as she begins to cry. I feel her pain, I feel Felix's pain and then there is the world of hurt that is mine alone. How do I help them? I lack the knowledge, the understanding. I do not have the words that will make a difference.

I tell Juliana to go ahead and cry, that it is ok and I will cry with her.  After what seems like an eternity, we get up. We drive to the cemetary. This is the first time Juls goes with me since the day of the funeral. Our mood seems to improve during the drive. She claims to like it there. She draws, with her finger, in the sand on our baby's spot. 'I love you' she writes.

She is reluctant to leave. She seems peaceful. She talks about taking balloons and gifts to Zavier for Valentine's Day. As we walk to the Jeep, she whispers to her brother that we will be back soon. I gently remind her that Zavier will not stay at the cemetary. We are his family. We are a part of his home. Where we go, he goes. Forever a family. Always Zavier.