by Rhonda Mason on December 30, 2008
Gus came to visit us today.
He and Rick spent the early part of the evening looking at Exodus and then later at night, we watched a movie together before retiring a bit after midnight.
About half an hour after he'd left, I heard Rick walk silently into the living room where I was expressing breastmilk.
"What's up," I asked without looking up.
When he didn't immediately reply, I detected something was wrong. I glanced up and immediately noted the downcast expression on Rick's face.
"The last time Gus and I hung out like that was the 15th of September last year…" he said.
"…the day Cameron died," I finished off his sentence for him.
My mind flashed back to that horrible day and all the memories of that horrendous night came flooding back.
"I really miss Cameron."
I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him.
"I know. Me too."
by Rhonda Mason on December 29, 2008
Seeing how much Angus has grown and changed over these last ten weeks contrasts starkly with the one image that I have of Cameron.
With Angus, I can think about what he might look like in one or two years time.
With Cameron, I can only ever think about him as a baby.
It is like he has been frozen in time.
Unlike Angus, he will never grow up. He will never grow old.
He will always remain a baby in our memory…
by Rhonda Mason on December 27, 2008
Watching an episode of Scrubs tonight about a woman whose son had died in an accident reminded me of Cameron and made me cry.
"To me, he'll always be ten years old. I wish I had more time with him." I could practically hear myself speaking.
Afterwards, I sat on the couch holding my tummy and I spent some time remembering what it was like when Cameron was in there.
It seemed so far away now, and at the same time, it seemed like only yesterday.
I wished I could have him back in there.
I wished I could carry him all over again.
I wished I could feel him inside me once more…
by Rhonda Mason on December 23, 2008
Happy.
I feel that people expect me to be happy, now that Angus has arrived.
I feel that my parents expect it. I feel that my family expects it. I feel that my friends expect it.
This expectation is great, and it weighs me down.
Yes, I am happy.
But I am also sad.
How do I express this sadness without causing confusion or worry?
How are you going, someone might ask.
Well, I tell them, we are going well.
It is not a lie. Everything, practically speaking, is going very well.
Angus is sleeping well, feeding well and growing well. We are enjoying and cherishing every moment with him. He is an absolute delight.
But always there is Cameron's absence. And therefore, there is always sadness in our hearts.
Do I need to keep explaining this to people? Or do they already know? But if they do know it, why don't they express it? Why do they have to sound so cheerful?
Perhaps it is just easier for everyone if I pretend that everything is well.
Perhaps it is just easier if I pretend that there is no more sadness, that there is no more pain, that there is no more grief.
Perhaps it is easier if I just hide all the darkness.
Perhaps it is easier if I just keep it all hidden.
by Rhonda Mason on December 21, 2008
I sat in the back row at church with Angus today.
The window was open next to me and the weather outside was just beautiful: blue sky, bright sunshine and a lovely, warm breeze.
Every time we sang a song, I looked outside and stared into the endless sky.
Where was Cameron, I wondered.
I knew he was with God, but where exactly was that?
Was he high up in the sky? Was he far away?
The only thing I knew for certain was that wherever that place was, it was infinitely more beautiful than the scene outside the window.
Cameron was in a much better place. A perfect place.
But even knowing that, I still wished he was with me.
Because I missed him. How I missed him.
I looked over at Angus sleeping peacefully in his portable cot, and immediately I could feel my eyes begin to water as my heart swelled with endless love for my two boys.
I cried knowing that I would never have both boys in my arms together.
I cried knowing that I would never see Cameron again for as long as I lived.
Yes, he was in a perfect place, but what I would give just to have him in my arms once more…