When Xavier was at Sick Kids, they took molds of his feet and hands. Apparently this is standard for babies that haven’t made it or won’t make it.
The day the box arrived at our home with his plaster hands and feet, I was a ridiculous mess. I knew the box was coming. I was even excited that the box was coming. I would have some connection to him. I could touch his little toes and fingers. There was also a CD of pictures that had been taken while he was at the hospital. Undiscovered pictures of Xavier are always a treat!!
I remember opening the box and pulling out the molds. All of a sudden I couldn’t see anymore, my eyes had filled with tears and I felt my loss and pain wash over me like it was as fresh as the day he died in my arms.
His molds now sit in our kitchen on a server right in front of a framed collage my sister put together.
Tonight at dinner I turned to put the salad bowl on the server, and I don’t know what possessed me, but I laughed and said “Hey look, a salad bowl holder” as I went to put the salad bowl on the upturned molds of Xavier’s feet. At the exact same moment, my beloved must of had an inkling of what I was about to do because he simultaneously screamed “Noooo!!”
I really upset him. I really offended him. Now before you think that I am for sure going to hell, hear me out.
We tease our kids, joke with them, joke at them and sometimes down right torment the hell out of them…all in good fun of course. It just seemed to me that to not include Xavier in the fun would be like ignoring that he was ever a part of our family. I was not trying to be disrespectful to my dead son. I was trying to include him.
My beloved was mad…really really mad. Making him part of the joke was just to much for him. I don’t regret it though…if he was still here I am sure he would have giggled.