Earlier this week, I blogged about how Henry’s Garden was starting to come back to life. Since then, both my sister Betsy, and my dear friend SK (who was best friends with Henry’s dad since preschool), snuck over to our house while everyone was at work/school and worked on the garden, so that it was even prettier when I came home.
They each added new plants, and SK mulched, plus he weeded our whole brick walkway next to the garden, and added sand to the grout-ey areas between the bricks, so it looks wonderful. And Betsy also added a little angel.
(Thanks guys. I love you. )
In the past few days, all I want to do is go out and sit next to or even in the middle of my son’s garden; it has some kind of magnetic pull for me. I just keep ending up there – first thing in the morning, and at night after everyone is asleep. I cry a lot, just staring at the flowers.
I’ve been crying more than usual lately. The tears seem bigger lately, too – much more dramatic splashes of salty water pouring out of my eyes. I used to try to hide it from Henry’s younger brother and sisters when the tears welled up. I cried in front of them sometimes, but I didn’t want them to feel like their mother was falling apart. But lately, I cry so much and so easily that hiding it just isn’t an option. I think they are mostly used to it. When I start crying, or I am obviously trying NOT to start crying, the big kids will give me a hug, and C always asks, “Mama are you thinking about Henry?”
Maybe it’s spring coming again that’s made me cry more, as much now as I did in the beginning. Maybe even more, because in the early months, I was sort of numb with shock. Maybe I am crying more because I feel so raw and exposed as a result of the incredibly painful and humiliating “going public” thing, which I had hoped with every fiber of my being to avoid. I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t stop crying lately.
Mostly, I think I just miss him. I miss Henry so much. And I hear him…I feel him…calling out for his mama during those hours he was trapped inside that house trailer, totally incapacitated and unable to breathe and totally at the mercy of two very mean people who had led him to believe they wanted to help him. I can’t even think about what else happened inside that place during those hours. But I know, I just know that he tried to figure out how to let me know he needed me, and he couldn’t, and I didn’t come. And he suffered and hurt.
So for now, I just keep sitting in his little garden whenever I am not at work, and when no one in my family will miss me. Sitting with the flowers and the little iron pigs and everything gives me more relief than anything else – at least for a few minutes. Later in the spring, I want to extend the garden to stretch across the whole front of our house, Maybe I’ll dig into that during the weekend of the anniversary of his death – May 31.
I miss my baby boy. So much. He was so precious to me. Having been his mother since I was just a bit older than he was when he died, I still have’t quite yet figured out how I am supposed to be in the world when he’s not in it too.
Here Are Some New Photos of Henry’s Garden That I Took Late This Afternoon
(If you can’t see the slideshow of my new photos from Henry’s Garden, you can click here to see the photos over at Flickr.)