Forever Stone.

Mummy's head is reeling all over the place Haydon.  Trying hard to be 'normal', well the 'new normal' that i'm busy creating....I think I got away with it today and last night.....maybe.....who knows.....who cares tbh...this rollercoaster is my new normal...this swing of tears and then sudden laughter....anger and then total desperation....then fits of unexplained giggles and then reality....

We didn't tell many people, but yesterday you got your forever stone.  Mummy has been feeling so so so sad, and has tried so so so hard to hide it. Yesterday was a hard day.  We saw your name on marble.  That is probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to look at.

Today.....the emotions are all mixed up.  It's reality.  It is desperation.  It is sadness.  It is disappointment.  It is anger.  It is emptiness. It's confusion.
and in among all of this there is pride.  There's a form of closure.  There's love.  There's comfort.

But I wonder how there can be any comfort.  My son has a gravestone.  I prefer the term Forever Stone.  It seems much softer.  Gentler.  More caring and more loving.

I should be picking up a halloween outfit for you Haydon.  I should be dressing you up as a pumpkin or something equally as cute and silly.  I should be looking forward to spending our first halloween with you, lighting a candle in a lantern and seeing the light on your face.  But I'm not.  We're not.

Instead we are taking flowers up to your forever bed that have a little witch on a stick as part of the bouquet.  We are looking at all of your possessions up at the cemetery and we are deciding which ones we can keep up there beside your new stone.  Your only stone.  Your forever stone.
Chosen with love.  So personal to you, and me and Daddy.  In the words of the Funeral Director, "all we have left of our little fella".

How shit.  How rubbish.  How cheated we are Haydon.

I love your stone.  But I hate it.
I love your forever space with all the beautiful flowers.  But I hate it.
I love how you have more space for flowers, but I want to buy you more than that.
I hate that you have a gravestone.  But I'm proud of you, and i'm sure you will be proud of us for choosing that one for you.

How do you describe how it feels to see your child's name on marble.  You can't.
How do you tell people how you feel when you go up to a cemetery and speak to your son who flies free.  You can't.
How can I go up there now and see that forever, the closure, you are there.  You are there.  There.

I want you here.

How do I feel Haydon?  I don't know.
Am I glad you have a stone with your name on? I don't know.
Will I get used to seeing it without my heart breaking?  I don't know.

Other people get to choose halloween outfits, while I buy clay to make your christmas gift.
Children will go trick or treating, while I buy gold spray paint for my projects.
Kiddies will get sweeties and lanterns and decorations.....you get flowers Bubba.

I love you.  I hope I grow to love your stone.  I want to feel as proud of your stone, as I am of you.
I hope someday I can rest easy going up and seeing "all we have left of you".

It breaks my heart.  But it fills my heart.

I love you Bubba.  I just do.  I always will xxxxxxx <3