Finally

We had an appointment with Dr McElduff in the morning today. He looked at all my glucose scores for the past few weeks and decided to start me on insulin.

We came back home in the early afternoon and I did some writing to help me get my thoughts down.

I was still coming to terms with the thought of collecting Cameron’s ashes in the afternoon. I knew we had to do it before Monday. I kept running through all the other possible options in my head. Perhaps we could go tomorrow? Perhaps we could go on Sunday instead?

Whilst I was wrestling with these thoughts, Rick was quietly making the phonecall to Albert & Meyer downstairs.

A few minutes later, I could hear his soft footsteps as he quietly padded up the stairs. He came in and sat down at the armchair next to my desk. I couldn’t look directly at him, as I already knew what he was about to say.

“We have to collect them this afternoon, Ronnie. They’re not open on the weekend…” his voice trailed off.

I finally met his gaze, my face full of mournfulness and reluctance.

“I know,” he said softly, his expression mirroring my own.

We drove there in silence.

There were simply no words.

We both felt the weight and the enormity of what we were about to do.

Neither of us could anticipate exactly how we would respond to holding Cameron’s ashes in our hands. We had no idea what it would be like.

The afternoon sun was shone relentlessly into our faces the entire way there. Again I felt the irony of such warmth and brightness.

I stared out the window for most of the way, clutching Rick’s left hand tightly with my right.

My stomach churned. My heart pounded.

I was filled with both resignation and fear. I didn’t want to face the horrible reality of Cam’s death. Yet I knew we had to do what we were about to do. We couldn’t keep putting it off. It was our responsibility. Cameron was our son. We were his parents. We had to do this. No matter how hard, we had to do it.

I fell asleep for the last ten to fifteen minutes of the trip, so exhausted was I from crying over the past two days.

Rick woke me up just as we neared the house.

“We’re here, Ronnie,” his voice was soft and low in my ears.

We gave each other a kiss and a hug before we stepped out. We would do this together.

We were greeted at the reception area by Rebecca, the same lady who came to see us to arrange Cameron’s funeral the Tuesday after he died. I had been hysterical and inconsolable that day.

We made small talk for a few minutes before she returned to her work. Rick and I sat down at the front table to wait.

I was nervous, anxious, scared and sad. I was thankful for the heating and for Rick’s presence.

It seemed like an eternity before they finally located Cameron’s ashes.

I stood to one side as the man handed a medium sized paper bag to Rick. I couldn’t look. Rick signed for it and we left, thanking them for their help.

As soon as we were a small distance from the house, we opened the bag to look inside. We saw the name plaque that had been on Cameron’s casket, attached to a plain white plastic box with some clear sticky tape. We took the box out and discarded the bag.

The box felt unpleasantly light in our hands, in contrast to the weight of Cameron when we’d held him in our arms.

Silence, shock and disbelief hung in the air between us.

It was only until we were inside the car that our faces crumpled and our tears erupted between us. The last time we had cried like that together was perhaps the night we found out Cameron had died.

Our grief poured forth, our lamentation loud in our own ears. It was unstoppable.

This was our son. This small box contained the remains of our precious, beautiful son.

I could hardly breathe through my sobbing. I could hardly see through my tears.

We laid the box in my lap. I had thought that I wouldn’t be able to bear holding Cameron’s ashes, but I found that I wanted to.

This was my son. This was my baby. My boy. My Cameron.

Somehow holding the box in our hands brought home the terrible reality of his death with brutal force.

Before, I could remember Cameron as how I saw him last. Now, I was forced to accept that that little body no longer existed.

The precious little body that I’d carried and grown and was joined to for nine months was well and truly gone.

This was all that was left of him now. Between now and the resurrection, this was how he would remain.

Rick pointed out with a wry smile on his face that Cameron and Angus were finally together: one on my lap and one inside of me. Our weeping continued.

It was some time before we decided to pick up some food and drive to the park next to our first home at Freeman Place. It felt right to go there, for that was where Cameron was conceived and where we’d spent seven joyful month expecting his arrival into our lives.

As I waited in the car for Rick to get the food, I received a message from Mary. I rang her back to let her know what we’d just done and we both burst out crying together.

We would be over later, I said. What you’re doing is so brave, she said.

It felt strange driving up Mobbs Lane to Freeman Place. It seemed like a lifetime ago that we lived there. We were so happy then. How was it that so much had changed in just over a year?

When we arrived, we sat and ate in silence.

As sad as we were, a part of me was glad that we had finally collected our son’s ashes. I shared this with Rick and he promptly agreed. He felt a great weight had been lifted off. He felt almost relieved.

We sat there in the car next to our old home for almost two hours – crying, talking, sharing, lamenting, hugging, grieving and remembering. By the time we decided to leave, night had fallen.

We brought Cameron’s ashes in with us at Peter and Mary’s place. They greeted us both with warm embraces.

We chatted to them together for some time before Mary and I continued to talk by ourselves. As we talked, we cried together. It was extremely comforting how well we understood each other’s pain. I felt amazingly blessed to have her as my mother-in-law.

When we finally got home late that night, we put Cameron’s ashes on Rick’s dresser next to our bed. I didn’t want to leave them downstairs in another room. I wanted him to be with us.

As we laid down to sleep, our hearts were heavy still.

I asked Rick to stay close to me. He put his arms around me from behind and I fell asleep eventually wrapped up in his warm embrace…