Zoë came home again yesterday. Zeppo was contacted by the funeral home, and he made the trip to pick up a small vessel. It is blue, and has white birds. It fits in the palm of my hand.
I asked Zeppo where we should place her. What a strange sentence. Even as I said it, it the words fell out of my mouth and dropped to the floor. There is nothing natural about having to think of where to “place” your child. Zoë should be learning to crawl. She should be rolling all around, sitting up, and being everything but still. The thought that she is contained in one small spot is, well…I don’t have the words yet to describe how painful it is.
The vessel is now on my dresser in our bedroom. I placed her with a jeweled bird that will contain her hair once I figure out a way to secure it. I lay in bed, and I could not stop staring at the little shrine.
I thought about when she was that small. When I was pregnant with her, and when I could just start feeling her. I thought of all of the things I did with her.
Zoë and I went to Philadelphia together. She was just weeks old and she had her first airplane ride. We made a wedding dress together. We danced with Zeppo at our wedding. She went to Canada, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut. She went to work with me, and we drove around a lot together. She listened to my secret hopes, and dreams for her.
As I left for work this morning I opened a package that contained information on a Star named after Zoë in the Libra Constellation. I could not help but cry again. The other night lying in bed I used the Google Sky App to locate Libra. It was right over my bed. I thought of Zoë. Now I know that as we rotate around the galaxy Zoë’s star will be out there shining away.
My little shinning star.
Our bedroom became a temple, and a sanctuary, and now Zoë is back home with us in this sacred space.
I asked Zeppo where we should place her. What a strange sentence. Even as I said it, it the words fell out of my mouth and dropped to the floor. There is nothing natural about having to think of where to “place” your child. Zoë should be learning to crawl. She should be rolling all around, sitting up, and being everything but still. The thought that she is contained in one small spot is, well…I don’t have the words yet to describe how painful it is.
The vessel is now on my dresser in our bedroom. I placed her with a jeweled bird that will contain her hair once I figure out a way to secure it. I lay in bed, and I could not stop staring at the little shrine.
I thought about when she was that small. When I was pregnant with her, and when I could just start feeling her. I thought of all of the things I did with her.
Zoë and I went to Philadelphia together. She was just weeks old and she had her first airplane ride. We made a wedding dress together. We danced with Zeppo at our wedding. She went to Canada, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut. She went to work with me, and we drove around a lot together. She listened to my secret hopes, and dreams for her.
As I left for work this morning I opened a package that contained information on a Star named after Zoë in the Libra Constellation. I could not help but cry again. The other night lying in bed I used the Google Sky App to locate Libra. It was right over my bed. I thought of Zoë. Now I know that as we rotate around the galaxy Zoë’s star will be out there shining away.
My little shinning star.
Our bedroom became a temple, and a sanctuary, and now Zoë is back home with us in this sacred space.
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