Patches

I recently had a memory bear made from a few of Caius' sleepers. It was put together as a gift for Clint, with the intention of giving him a physical memory to hold. We can look at photos and videos of Caius over and over again as they are stored in our heads like a virtual Blockbuster, neatly organized into different times and spaces, but it's that physical longing that never gets satisfied. That is one of the most painful parts of loss- the realization and forced acceptance that you will never be able to hold someone you love ever again. It creates a heaviness in your heart, causes the space between your arms to feel frustratingly empty. Even if you try to fill that physical space with something similar, it still doesn't do the trick. I can hold another baby, even one related to me, and it can bring comfort. But there are tiny nooks and crannies that remain unfilled, like when a puzzle piece has been jammed into the wrong spot. Caius' existence instantly filled my heart and being in all the right places. With his loss came a draining sensation; I was left feeling empty. My hope with the memory bear was that having something small and soft covered in special cloth would provide some (yet knowingly incomplete) sense of closeness.

When choosing the special pieces that would be used, I first considered which outfits were too special to Caius to be worn by another. I settled on three. The first is a soft, navy blue sleeper with monster faces sewn into the feet. Passed along from one of my best friends, this onesie was loved by Caius because of these little smiling faces. When wearing this sleeper, Caius would kick up his legs to peek at them, laughing to himself happily. He was a happy guy and these moments were very much true to his personality.

The second onesie I chose is white and light blue striped with dark blue whales. This sleeper is also very Caius as he was quite the water baby. It was also one of the first outfits he wore in the hospital after being born, chosen weeks prior by his excited mom. We have so many treasured photos of our first days with Caius, so many memories of our first snuggles with him wearing this outfit. 

The last outfit I chose for our Caius bear was also especially significant to our story. On the joyful day we learned we would be parents, I surprised Clint with a "Baby's First Christmas" sleeper in the size Caius would wear during the holidays. Dressing our handsome, healthy boy in it for what would be his only Christmas was incredibly neat. I can't explain the particular brand of pain that came with seeing photos of Caius dressed in this outfit pop up as 'this time last year' posts on social media this past Christmas. Sharp, sad reminders that we would never get to see Caius' face as he looked at twinkling Christmas lights another year. That we wouldn't have new annual pictures with Santa to display. This one Christmas sleeper was infused with so many feelings of anticipation and warmth that I knew it too was special only to Caius.

Upon receiving our memento, I couldn't help but reflect about the meanings tied into each patch of fabric. And then I realized our whole lives are made up of patches- people, places, situations, events. Some predictable and some not. Some planned and some surprises. Sewn together to create what makes up our individual journey through life. From these different moments in our lives, we hold onto certain 'patches'. We don't tend to remember entire vacations or relationships, often times it is simply snipets of certain things. At times we hold on to memories that make us feel joy, sometimes we ruminate on patches that make us miserable (hello PTSD). Different people hold on to different patches: upon sharing a memory with someone else you may be reminded of a patch that you had forgotten about. "Do you remember when Caius would get really silly and shake his head around wildly?", Clint will ask me. I do, but not as strongly as I remember morning cuddles where he would come lay beside me in bed and twist around to look at me. When his eyes would meet mine and he would reach for my face, squishing little fingers into my mouth while I pretended to nibble on them. Caius' life should have held many more patches, but as a holder of these memories I know they are full. His moments were sewn into our own stories, and now also into a small bear. As a new year is upon us, I am inspired to look into the patches I have held on to from my own story and I am determined to let the useless ones go. Not only to have space for all my irreplaceable Caius patches, but to make room for moments with his brother. Strengthen the attachments of positive patches and cut out the ones that no longer serve purpose to me. New year, new quilt.

Or bear.

Love you buddy. Starting the year with lots of love and great memories of our time together. Grateful for the lessons you continue to send. ❤

Chantal