A "Hairy" Situation

There was a day a few weeks ago that I felt desperate.

Desperate to be able to touch Joshua one more time. I felt desperate to have some sort of connection to him just once more.

We have a tub of Joshua's things in our dining room. It's a rather large tub that takes up a lot of room, but we just can't put it away.

In my desperation, I had the genius idea of going through his things.

Just before Joshua died, I desperately needed to do laundry. So I collected his bag of dirty clothes and blankets from the hospital and did his laundry along with mine. (I don't remember if it was that Monday or Tuesday night when I did the laundry- he died on a Wednesday.) Since I did all of the laundry, we only have one outfit that smells like him.

So, I opened up his tub of things and searched for his outfit that I could hold, smell, and touch. In the midst of digging through his things, I found a little bag of his hair.

Oh his hair....When he was alive, his hair was always sweaty and greasy. I would hold the top of his head under the faucet in his room and wash his hair in luke warm water to make it fluffy and clean. He loved the sensation of it, and would coo and look around with those big beautiful eyes while I scrubbed his head clean. Once he was cleaned up, I would smell his head like there was no tomorrow- trying to savor his smell as much as I could (with the knowledge that tomorrow is never promised for any of us.)

When I found the bag of his hair, I had the uncontrollable urge to just touch his hair one more time.

BAD IDEA!

I took the lock of  his hair out very carefully. I held it in the palm of my hand, then between my fingertips. Oh, it was so soft. I felt like I was in heaven.

Then I started to sob. Deep breaths became my only way of getting oxygen to my lungs. In and out. In and out. In and OUT.....the last out ended up blowing Joshua's hair out of my hand and all over the floor and all over my shirt.

At first, I was mortified. I couldn't believe I had done that. I felt even bigger sobs coming. But before I knew it, I was laughing hysterically. What kind of an idiot trys to hold her dead son's hair in her hands and expects it to go well- to stay in the nice neat little clump that was in the baggie?!

So I began to get down on my hands and knees to start searching for individual peices of his hair on the dining room rug. I could hardly see as I was half laughing/half sobbing and running my hands along the rug (as if I could feel the tiny and fine strands of hair on the rug!).

What a sight I was!

After much searching, and finally deciding that ultimately it was a funny story (good thing we have 2 bags of his hair!) I decided to give up. (the thought came to me to never vaccuum that spot again- a good reason to never vaccuum again huh?!) I also decided that telling Shane what I did was probably not a good idea- at least for a few days! What an idiot I am sometimes!

I put what little hair I had left into a tin that my friend Carla painted for me. I don't think I will be handling his hair ever again!

Even though they are not the types of memories I thought we would be making with Joshua- it's these types of memories and stories that are helping to keep him alive in my heart and in my mind. I just have to laugh because I know he would be!