moving forward

Saturday, May 30, 2009

in the days immediately following cooper's death, people set about removing items that might remind me of cooper. i don't mean to say that they got rid of things, or touched the nursery, they simply removed them from my sight. it was usually done when i was in my room, in the shower or out of the house, small silent gestures of love and support. i was aware that the bottles were no longer in the kitchen or that the hammock that cooper loved was not in the living room, but i wasn't really aware of where they were or when they were moved. it was upon our return from our 3 week getaway in february that i realized that all the little signs of cooper were simply moved to the basement.

when we walked down the basement stairs we realized that you couldn't see the basement floor, so we spent some time organizing things. there were more boxes in the basement than i cared to count, thanks to the holidays. after breaking down boxes, filling garbage bags of packing peanuts and throwing wrapping paper out, order was restored. one side of the basement now holds all things baby. many of the items cooper never got to use and are still in boxes. the baby bjorn, the highchair, his ultra hip barkalounger that he was too small for, the car seat and car seat bases, the stroller, activity mats, the pack and play and boxes and boxes of formula. many of these things we will use again, but the formula has an expiration date. i was holding on to it in hope that we would be able to use it, but since we have not gotten pregnant yet, we will not be able to use the formula.

enter wonderful martha. a friend who volunteered to pick up the formula and deliver it to wilson commencement park, an organization that provides resources and services to low income families and children. today was the appointed day. and it was so much harder to let go of that formula than i expected. is it because of what it represents? nourishment for the baby that i no longer have? or is it a sign of letting go? moving forward? or is it that i feel guilty about giving away something that was cooper's? i know that this gesture will help many families and babies, another way in which cooper lives on and how he continues to touch others lives. but letting go of those boxes makes my heart ache for cooper.

1 comment:

  1. i think a small part of it might be that letting the formula go is another way to cement the fact that cooper will not come home. intellectually, you know that he can't come home, but emotionally... it's impossible not to want it. how could you not? *i* want it, and i don't know any of you.

    i commend you for helping others with what you won't be able to use. if it were me, i can't say that i wouldn't keep it sitting in some corner of my house, refusing to let go until it was too late. i'm sure you've made cooper proud.