I use to take Tommy's hand, the middle of his palm more specifically , and softly press it. I remember doing this a lot. Through NICU glass windows,feeding him, in bed, in the carrier- everywhere- and then waiting for the ambulance to get to our house on that dreadful night.
I've never asked myself why I did this gesture to him. I loved feeling his delicious baby flesh, his absolute unique cushiony hands and his lovely bones. His precious limbs were proof of his aliveness , he had blood in his veins and a beat in his heart.
More than a year now since Tommy as left this world and while I am not as grief-stricken, my hearts stands broken, tender, strayed. I am starting to understand that sadness can only take you so far. How can I morph this pain into something spectacular, stunning, real & brilliant?
I believe there are infinite ways to love someone. Words can appear frivolous at times. I can't for the best of me remember what I told Thomas when he departed to better skies. But I know I took his hand, the middle of his palm more specifically, and softly pressed it.