I don’t remember much about that day, but I do remember walking into the room and seeing the right one for you. We knew we wanted something pretty, but we didn’t know what until we saw the many shades of purple. We never thought it would be something we’d have to pick out for you
I remember the day we brought you home in it. I was expecting it to be so heavy, but it wasn’t. Now, though, if I try to lift it I find it to be almost impossible. It’s weighed down with so much sadness and broken dreams.
When I wake, I press my lips on top and say good morning. I kiss it before I leave the house and when I return.
I wrapped a pretty purple scarf around it because I thought you would like it. I want you to be warm.
On top I lay two rings. One is your birthstone, the one I got after you were born, the one that was to be yours when you turned sixteen. The other has a gorgeous purple stone that Aunties Leslie & Brianne gave me in your honor. You loved your birthstone ring so I think you’d like having both sparkly baubles so close.
At night I stand before it and I say goodnight to you. I never know what I’m going to say but I find myself talking to you for long stretches of time. My tears have left salt stains on top and I always tell you I’m going to clean them up. I promise I will.
I press my forehead on the cool hard surface and remember how warm and soft your skin was. Sometimes I think I can smell you, that sweet scent of your soap and curl shampoo. I think about everything you were robbed of. I wish I could take your place inside it.
At night I lay in bed and I hold your clothes and toys in my arms. I yearn to touch you one more time. I long to snuggle with you in bed again. I hope to wake from the nightmare that is you, forever, in an urn.