The Why of July

When the stars and stripes and fireworks appear, my gut is heavy, my breath sharp, because that day is coming again.

                                                  

The day I chose a soft, neon pink onesie with a frilly little bow... not knowing that would be the last time I would dress you.

The day after I had filled a deep bath and soaked with your warm body against my chest... not  knowing that would be our first and last.

The day I called and your daddy said "What???" and I said, "Just get here."

                                                                         

The day the only thing I ate was a 3 Musketeers Bar, and how I can't eat them anymore because I get that same nervous, gut punched feeling I had that day.

The day I screamed at God to please not take you from me.

The day I watched in disbelief at hands that didn't seem to be mine holding you close as your soul slipped from your body.

The day I kissed each tiny toe and wondered if I had ever taken the time to do that while you were alive.

The day I set you down to be covered by that ugly orange knitted blanket before they rolled you away forever.

The day I walked out into the sun holding your daddy's hand and an empty car seat.
                                
                                                   

The day I watched your siblings dissolve into hysterical tears when I told them you wouldn't be coming home.

 

The day I watched a deep dark hole swallow up every delicate detail of you.


The July my heart broke forever.

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