I can't stop thinking about it.
Was it a dream or was it one of those revelations that comes to find your brain right before it turns into sleep mode, because that is when your brain is most vulnerable to such ideas?
Elijah's ashes have been calling me. They will not be ignored. I could not look at this box a year ago; now I cannot look away. I am drawn to them first thing in the morning. I check them again at night. I take the bag out and hold it. Or, should I say, I hold him? I don't know.
I confess, I have even talked to it/him. This morning I put his ducky in the huge empty space in the box.
What does all of this mean? Does this mean anything larger than it is? Is there some deeper meaning that I am failing to grasp? Does it mean we should say goodbye to the ashes, to the last physical remnants of his body? Does it mean we should not? Does it mean I should have conversations with the bag of ashes over my coffee each morning, until, years later, someone finds me attached to my toilet seat singing lullabies to myself softly, and decides that I am not right in the head?
Where is that fucking dead baby manual?
My dream was that he is made into a castle. His ashes are mixed with the sand of his beach, and lovingly formed into a castle at the shoreline; a tribute and an offering for the sea.
The castle is covered with flower petals and then slowly, the sea will take him away.
Just a dream.
Just a dream.