We’ve been waiting for news on Leo’s remains. We were told we’d be notified when the Neptune Society had taken possession of his little body.
Today was that day. We received a call about an hour ago and I paid over the phone for him to be treated with dignity and care. Our Funeral Counselor has been trained well. To treat others with compassion. Simply hearing her say “I wanted you to know that we picked up your baby this morning and he’s in our care…” was enough for me to exhale and feel like we’re not the only ones on the planet that knew that he was a baby. OUR baby. And that he was real and his passing has caused deep sorrow and grief.
I know this is part of the process, but, I wept after hanging up the phone. I wept because I was relieved that he was no longer at the hospital and could finally have some sort of rest, some closure. I weep because I am anticipating the next phone call: He’s ready to be picked up.
He’ll be in his permanent home, a tiny little keepsake urn with his name engraved on it: Leo.
It’s a crimson heart, because just like in our hearts, his name will be forever engraved.