It’s been twenty-four days without you. Twenty-four long days without holding you and without smelling your sweet scent. Twenty-four days I’ve missed nuzzling your soft hair with my nose and cuddling you until my arms and back ache. I miss playing with your tiny toes and trying to comfort you by bouncing you in my arms. I want to hold your hand again and kiss your chubby cheeks. I long to be awoken by your cries during the night, but instead, the nights are long and eerily quiet. I wanted to watch you grow. I wanted to see your sister read you books and sing to you. Why did you have to go?
I now live with one foot in heaven and one foot on earth. Even though I know you are in heaven, I feel that a piece of me is buried in that Evergreen cemetary. The hospital drive got so long and I was so tired of it, but I miss it. I miss it because it meant I got to see you. Everything I do, I just think about how you should be with us, celebrating holidays and introducing you to this crazy world of ours. A commercial for Shriners hospital came on the other day, and I could hardly watch it, because we were so looking forward to taking you there to see how they could help you. Just driving downtown is painful, because that’s where you lived for 79 days.
The cards have stopped coming and the flowers are all wilted. The meals are dwindling and the world keeps spinning. The ache in my heart is my constant companion. I scroll through pictures of you constantly because that’s all I have left. There was so much we had left to discover and learn about you. So much to experience with you. I miss you so much Josh.
It’s hard to believe you are gone. I didn’t think this would be your story. Such a long road, so excited to take you home, to only a day later you being gone. Bridget and I always talk about what you might be doing in heaven. She thinks you are playing with lions and watching her soccer games on the t.v. in heaven.
I’m forced to walk the rest of my life without you. I’m left with an unfinished baby book, unused outfits and a future of always wondering who you’d be. I can hardly wait to run up to you in heaven and lift you into my arms again. Until then, I’ll be missing you Joshua Toby.