I took this picture on Christmas Day. A typical holiday pilgrimage to a place no one wants to spend their holidays. Where Eleanor is buried is very lovely. It's in a particularly pretty area of Fayetteville, the grounds are softly hilly, there's a even duck pond. Folks in the neighborhood are always in it on nice days, using it almost like a neighborhood park - walking dogs and jogging.
I think Ed will like coming here for those reasons but, while I love this picture of him in his Christmas outfit, reaching happily for his sister's flowers, looking at this image also fills me with anxiety for the future.
I want to celebrate Eleanor. Include her in family events, remember my pregnancy and her life. And we do. But how and when do I begin to broach the topic with my joyful baby. He's one now and their birthdays are very close together in the calendar year. Which means every January 28th we celebrate the happiest day of my life and a scant 8 days later we struggle through Eleanor's birthday.
I never want him to dread her day or the mention of her name and I don't want him to feel sad - ever. But I want him to know her, to love her with us.
I guess we'll navigate this pass the same way we have made it through all of the other impossible situations presented to parents who don't have their children to hold. Do it because we must. Figure it out because we've been given no other option. Be natural and cautious, happy and heartbroken.
But if someday, somewhere, some mom finds this entry and knows just what to do - please, please advise.