I have all of my little guy's story written down and I want to post it on here. Only problem is that its over 50 pages typed and single spaced. That is how I spent the entire week after Henry's funeral. Typing and typing to get every detail down. I am so glad I did that. The only problem is that no matter how much anyone loves me, 50 pages is a heck of a lot to read. Now I am trying to get an edited version, hopefully much much shorter than 50 pages that I can put here. It's hard though. It is hard for me to keep reading it over and over. Getting my head to go back to that place is hard. It's hard to remember and write down the feelings. The protective walls in my head have gone up to block the raw feelings, to an extent. They will always be there, but they are getting to a functional place. Reading and writing it all down (while very therapeutic the first two weeks or so after Henry was here), is getting more painful. So naturally I have been avoiding it. I am stuck at one place in what I am writing and can't seem to get past it. I want to include every little tiny detail. His life and time with us was so precious and such an incredible experience from beginning to end, that I feel every little detail needs to be given to paint the picture so you understand Henry and so you realize why he is so incredible to me. But it is very emotional. Hopefully I will get somewhere with it soon.
We went to see Henry today. We go often, one to two times a week. On Mondays we have a family night together there. But my favorite time to go is early in the mornings on Saturdays when Ben is home with Jack and I can go by myself. I take my scriptures and paper to read and write. I love where Henry is buried. I love it so much. Anyone who goes there can see and feel why. It is incredible. The spirit I feel there takes my breath away every time. As I sit there I feel like I am engulfed in a warm hug. My mind is clear, the cemetery is silent and I can think. Inspiration comes to me like I have never had it come. The cemetery is back away from everything, down a dirt road through some farms to the base of the mountains. It is quite, calm and peaceful. It's a sacred place to me. I don't go there because I need the physical closeness to his body, though the thoughts of missing his physical body bring the raw feelings of pain to the surface, but I go because of the calming feeling it gives me. The peace, the love, the comfort. It is one of the very few places I can clear my mind enough to think openly without getting distracted or worrying about silly things in life. I am grateful for this place. It helps me cope.
We were so blessed to have the service of two wonderful photographers to help us document Henry's life. At the hospital a sweet lady from the organization Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (NILMDTS) came and took incredible pictures. All the pictures I put up that are black and white were done by this talented lady. I am so grateful for the service. She was able to capture our emotions that day, our joy and love. We also had a photographer at the funeral service. I am so glad I did this! She is a friend from church and took some amazing pictures. I am forever grateful for these! I am looking at them as I type this. I love having pictures of Henry around our home to look at as often as I want. Every time I look at that sweet face, fiery love floods over my body. Oh how I love that boy!
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