I swear I can't stand to see Brandon in pain. He just shuts down and the look on his face is unbearable. He seems so frozen, so protected, and very withdrawn. This past weekend was Father's Day weekend. We spent Sunday with all of our kids. When I say all, I mean ALL. We went to the cemetery, and we saw Claire. We left her a cross, a keychain, balloons, and a beautiful card. Her resting place is so charming. Almost too charming, as if what is there isn't anything sad at all. I remind myself that a few feet below lays a casket with a small baby inside, wrapped in a soft blue and pink blankie, holding pictures of her mommy and daddy, sister and brothers. She lies there still, a spirit on the loose in heaven, showering the Earth with rainbows, holding Jesus' hand. All while she catches my tears, and watches me hurt for her.
When we visited her this weekend, he held me tight and we told the kids to go sit back in the car after a while. I looked up at his blank face, I asked him if he was ok. His response? Nothing. He just kept staring at her grave, grimacing, a tear flowed down his cheek. Finally, a response. "She would be due right about now", and I would have all my kids here with me".
This man is devastated. He just shows it differently than I do.
We left, and the kids told her bye.
To think of it, I've only ever been able to say bye. She was gone in three minutes after birth, I've only ever been able to say bye.
Here are some pictures from seeing her this weekend.
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