Today is the 20th anniversary of Michael's death.
20 years ago today, I kissed my baby boys sweet little head and told the doctor it was okay to turn off the ventilator.
Thinking about that still brings tears to my eyes. I wish I could still smell his sweet babyness, cuddle his tiny little self.
After his heart stopped and relatives held him to say their goodbyes, we swaddled him in a blanket, handed his little body over to a nurse, and watched her walk down the hall and out of sight.
I haven't let that scene play in my head in a long time. A piece of my heart broke off and shriveled up in that moment.
Time certainly does not heal all wounds. It eases their severity. But the deep ones? It doesn't ever just go away.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you would like to link to your blog, use the OpenID option.