Today, in a few quiet moments before I got out of bed, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and started thinking about Rip. I pictured myself in the delivery room, and someone was laying him in a blanket on my chest. I could almost feel the soft blanket and the light weight of him in that nook by my chin.
I stopped myself because none of that ever happened, Rip was taken out of the delivery room before I got to do more than glance at him. But then I closed my eyes again and let that image come back to me. I can picture him like this, holding him with no wires or monitors between us, this is what he looks like now.
As time goes on, and I remember more and more about the time Rip was alive, not all of the memories I have are pleasant ones. Sometimes I lie awake at night and remember a particularly difficult time...I start to panic...before I know it I am back in that moment and my only feeling is one of absolute terror. But always, always before I reach a point of no return, a voice calls me back that says, "he's okay now, he's okay now, he's okay now."
This picture I have in my mind is perfectly peaceful. He's okay now.