I miss his little bumpy head and his sticky, slobbery kneck. He always smelt like milk. he was funny and soft and shy, he loved his daddy's baseball cap, he would stare at the bill and his eyes would be so wide and blue. Daddy would put him on his knees and play horsey ride with him. Levi always laughed and bowed his head with his smile because he was so shy. Daddy called him his little buckaroo, I always told Levi that he was mine, or i called him monkey boy. He always sat in my arms with such satisfaction.
One of our last outings was at the grocery store. The babies both fell asleep in their carts. we used the groceries as pillows for them.
I hated the grocery store right after levi died. Only one baby to fuss over. It was laways harder with two but now i ached for the frustration. I still ache. Then I saw twins every where. I wanted to say to the parents that I had twins too, that I still belonged to that special society. I had mine without help. my body just made two. But, then, I'd have to tell them that he was dead and i'd cry like a lunatic in the store. I woiuld scare them and every one else. Grief and loss can become such a secret, even with those that know. When I speak of Levi, the room always gets quiet, people freeze and try not to look into my eyes. Sometimes I just want to talk about him, after all, he was here, he does exist still, in my heart here on earth and in heavan. i just miss him so much.