I am the only one I know that LOVES cranberry sauce. Some may like it and eat a bit, some eat a little to be polite, but most skip it entirely. It is one of those things that is wholly mine and the type of thing I dreamt of one or more of my children adopting.
But that dream was snatched from my mind before it even got the chance to fully develop.
I’m not sure I knew when it happened that I’d miss things like that. I didn’t realize it until I was up late after our second son had fallen asleep making cranberry sauce for the holiday season and it hit me like an enormous wave. Collapsing on to the floor, I was overcome with the same grief that I was so intimately familiar with.
Greyson was a perfect, healthy little boy.
At 7 weeks, he fell asleep in my arms and then never woke up. The trauma of that agonizing night will never leave my brain. Even now, years after he passed away I find myself playing the events on a loop in my head, unable to escape for any semblance of relief.
We have another son now, Harrison.
He’s a light that filled a very, very dark place in my life and I am so grateful. I am so grateful that I will know him. I have seen his first laugh. I’ve seen his first steps. I will see his first birthday come and go. I get to will know if he likes cranberry sauce. But for Greyson, I️ will never know. I’ll never get the chance to force it on him in the hopes that in some way, he is like me. I’ll never know for sure. I like to think he would have been the one to share this with me. He would be the one that would appreciate the new cranberry recipe I tried and it would be our “thing”. We only had seven weeks to have “things” together, and I cherish all of those moments and “things” we did get to have but I long for so many more.