A storm rolled in this afternoon. At least, it appeared like a really big snow storm. Big snow flakes blowing to the south. When all was said and done though, all that had fallen was a dust of snow as you can attest from the picture above. As the snow was blowing by our living room window, I was reminded of the storm we got on Mother's Day. It looked exactly like it did on that day. It felt exactly the same too, peaceful.
Since Preston's passing, I've often found myself having conflicting thoughts about certain things. Dust, is one of them. A dusting of snow to me equates to serenity. It is pure. Seeing the snow fall, and letting out a big sigh can be so releasing. However, when I think of dust, I also am reminded of the dust that is collecting in my sweet P's nursery. On some of his things that are still in the kitchen, or our bedroom. Dust shouldn't be collecting on his crib and mattress. It should be being used every day. Dust shouldn't be settling on his swing, rocking chair and bouncer. I don't have to step into his room to know that it is. I should probably go in there and do a good dusting. One day, I'm sure. All I know is that it won't be today, or tomorrow. Probably not this year. I've been told by other parents that there is no set time to do anything when you are grieving. There's no schedule that says "it's been 6 months, you need to pack up the nursery". Some parents were able to do it a year later. Some almost 2 years later. I don't know when that day will be for me. Or for Brett. Time will tell, and I try not to dwell on it.
I try, but sometimes I can't help but think about his nursery. This room where he slept. Where I rocked him, fed him his bottle and read to him. This room that was supposed to one day be filled with little race cars, baseball mitts and legos. It's very difficult to get passed the fact that he'll never know what those things are. I think that actually, it's not something you really get passed. It's just something you get used to and most days, you are at peace with it. Other days, you struggle with that thought, or similar thoughts. Some days you cry, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Dust can be a thought that brings me peace, but it can also cause a lot of anguish. This happens with a lot of different things.
Do you think angels come visit at night? Perhaps they sprinkle happy dream dust on our sleepy heads? Probably not, but I like that thought, and maybe I will think of that as I try to fall asleep tonight. Sprinkle me with happy dreams, ones that I'd be elated to remember tomorrow morning.
I have the same thoughts about the nursery and I can relate to so much of what you said. His nursery is a sacred space. I always figured that maybe one day, when we are ready to take their things out of that room, we will put them in a separate dresser and maybe place it in our closet so that their things are accessible to us when we want to hold them. But like you said, there's not schedule to this. No rush, no deadline. You do what you think is right for you. You'll know when the time is right and what to do when that day comes.
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