Hard moments

There are moments when Jack's memory comes rushing back stronger than usual. When butterfly floats by, I think that he is saying hello. When unfortunately, I have to give someone advice on what it feels like to lose a baby before you even meet him, the emotions come rushing back and just make me feel heavy. That weight lies in the pit of my stomach. And moments like today. I opened a random drawer and find Jack's cremation information. I have no idea why it was in there. I have no idea why it was not with the rest of his stuff where it belongs, but it wasn't. And I saw it today and my heart sank. I cremated my son. His ashes are in hmm living room, in a lake, and around my neck. His arms don't hug me, his lips don't kiss me, and I will never hear his voice. Instead, I have only the memory of my dead son that we had to cremate. It still hurts so much.