Monday, April 30, 2012

Shopping with my girl.

I took you shopping today, my sweet.

First we dropped off your brothers with a friend. You didn't mind being left alone in the truck for a few minutes while I brought them inside. Then we went to the second-hand store the church runs on Friday mornings. My heart was heavy within me as I caressed you in my pocket while I drank coffee with another mum. The other children there were so demanding. Not you, my sweet. You were quiet as a mouse. I saw a pair of shoes on the shelf. Little shoes that should be just your size. I wanted them. I ached for them. I left them there.  Actually I had donated them to the store a few weeks earlier. They were to have been yours, my dear.

Then we went to pick up some photos. Photos of you, my sweet. It's amazing how good a deal photographers will give you  when the child in the photographs has died. They couldn't find them. Never mind, I'll pick them up another time.  We went on to the grocery store. I bought milk, tomatoes, yogurt, cucumbers... I didn't buy any baby food. We don't need any in our house. You don't eat it anymore, my darling.

Next stop, the mall. This special stop is why I brought you with me, my treasure. This is why you accompanied me shopping today. We stopped in at the little booth that does engraving. The lady there commented on how cute the little rocking horse was that I wanted engraved. She held it up and looked at it. She asked what I wanted engraved on it. I told her it was you she was so casually holding in her hand. You, my sweet, encased in a rocking horse that should have been a piggy bank for a living girl, not an urn for a dead one. You never should have been able to fit inside that little horse. We engraved your name Eva Ruby Christine-October 15 2010 to August 15 2011. Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Granddaughter. There are so few things I can buy for you, so few ways I can mother you.  So, I get your urn engraved. I caress your name etched into the pewter and the tears stream down my face at how beautiful it looks. How beautiful you are, my sweet.

We left the mall and carried on. We had many stops to do today. You didn't cry or fuss about your car seat. I took you out of my pocket when I was driving. Let you get some sunshine. We went out for lunch together. I put you on the table in front of me and I ignored all the people who looked at the tears washing down my face as I ate my lunch with you. I thought about how different it would have been  to have lunch with you if you were breathing. I wouldn't linger over coffee, and what would you be eating my darling? Would you want to hold a french fry in your chubby hand?

We drove back together, along the road we had come. I caressed you again in my pocket, rubbing my thumb along your newly engraved name, and we went to pick up your brothers.  They came tumbling out of the house. Full of joy. I gently showed your little rocking horse to my friend who babysat your brothers.  She didn't know what she was holding as she commented on how surprisingly heavy it was. That's when I told her it was heavy because it was full of ashes. Full of you, my treasure.

I didn't let her hold you long. I jealously reached back for you, and safely ensconced you in my pocket once again.


  1. thank you for sharing your day with Eva. It's lovely and heartbreaking. I'm sorry that she's not holding the french fry in her little fist. I wish we were meeting for coffee with our babies here with us xoxoxo

  2. So, so painfully beautiful.

    I feel like I'm always carrying Molly with me, and at the same time, picturing how she would be and what she would be doing if she had lived. Every day. Sometimes I think I may be living a parallel life with Molly somewhere.

    Much love to you and to sweet Eva Ruby Christine. xoxo

  3. Dear Em,

    I am new to your blog and so very sorry about Eva, such a beautiful little girl with a beautiful name. Eva's rocking horse sounds exquisite - what a wonderful way to keep her close. We have yet to find the perfect spot for our Grace's cremains. 5 months on, and I'm still wishing we didn't have to.

  4. This is just beautiful. Achingly beautiful. I'm so sorry that this is how you must share a day of shopping with your daughter. Sending hugs your way. xx

  5. beautiful post but also breaks my heart that this is not just a book ...its your life you are sharing with us. Thank you for reminding us how precious baby Eva was and still is to you! I too think the rocking horse sounds beautiful!

  6. Thank you for sharing your day of memories. You have made this day very precious and another memory of your little girl. Eva will be forever remembered by all of us. lots of love, Beccy

  7. Em This is just beautiful. It really brought me to tears. I am so sorry Em that your sweet girl is held by a beautiful rocking horse instead of being carried by you. Life is so unfair. You are such an incredible mom.

    Love Hismommy