Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Johnson & Johnson.

Night before last in our usual routine, I took my little ones up the stairs to begin bathtime. As I began filling the tub with warm water it came to my attention that I was completely out of shampoo. I looked under the cabinet for shampoo, because usually there are extras on hand. Ofcourse that night there wasn't. But...


Sitting quietly up in Savannah's closet sat one of her many bottles of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo. The chaos of children around me was silenced as I stood in her closet doorway staring at the bottle of golden soap. It stared heavily back at me. I felt my body begin shaking as I slowly reached for the full unopened bottle.


I saved her shampoos, her body washes, and her lotions. I saved her desitin, her baby q-tips, her baby powders, and the bottles of hand sanitizers. All in hopes and knowledge that they would come to use someday. That they would be used someday. I just didn't expect the need to arise so soon.


I lowered my body into the glider that sits in the corner of her nursery, cradling the bottle close to my chest. The door was closed. A crack of light shown through at me. I hadn't sat in her chair in awhile. It was our favorite place to rock together while I was pregnant. It eased my back pain, and soothed her to sleep when she found herself doing gymnastics in my tummy. I would sing her lullabyes and would stare into the words written upon the wall next to the rocker.


"Some people dream of angels... I hold one in my arms."

I looked to those words as a reminder that I would hold her in that chair so very soon. I wish she could have seen her little room. But tonight... tonight, I was rocking a bottle of her shampoo that I dreamed of caressing into her beautiful brown hair. I opened it, and closed my eyes. I smelled it again and again picturing Savannah. And I finally, slowly got up. I walked back to her closet. I ran my fingers across all of her precious little outfits, and shut the closet door yet again. 

As I poured the shampoo into my hands and rubbed it into Sarah's pretty brown hair, I held back tears. Here she was... Savannah was humming right in front of me... and I was washing her beautiful brown hair. My tears then dripped off of my cheeks into the bathwater. But it was a good thing.



I think I will save that bottle when the last drop finally leaves me down the drain...   

2 comments:

kirsten michelle said...

Oh, the ache. The terrible, terrible ache.

Only you can know the particular pain you carry, but there is something in me that says: I know what you mean.

Wendi@Every Day Miracles said...

Oh I know - it is so hard. You are doing really good.