I saw the cutest onesies while I was out shopping today. One was black with a red and white electric guitar and said "Daddy's Little Rockstar," and the other was white, and said "I Love My Daddy." Those words pierced me, unexpectedly, and an entire life unlived flashed before my eyes in the space between one heartbeat and the next, leaving me breathless and dizzy and confused. I wandered the store for an additional hour, distracted, aimless.
I am distressed, still, by what has opened up inside of me. Wary of my emotions. Through all my grieving, here is a piece I've tried so hard to hold at arm's length. I don't want to think about Noah's daddy, don't want to think about what he lost. My son, yes -- but his son, too. Our son.