When we found out that Jackson had died, we decided almost immediately that we didn't want a funeral. We didn't want a grave, or a sad urn of ashes, we didn't want a depressing reminder of his death. We wanted to celebrate his life. We wanted to honor his soul and his sweet little personality (I know that sounds weird but I knew him. Even though he never took breath on Earth for me to know him) but we didn't want some sad memento of the fact that we lost him. I know that it's such a personal choice, what to do with a stillborn baby? Even a teeny tiny small one? The thought of parting with him and giving him to someone else was the hardest thing to do, ever, but in my heart I knew that was just his shell, it was not him. He was not there. His soul would forever be etched into me.
Anyways, so this whole "sacred place" to be with my baby, to talk with him and think about him...it was not a physical thing that I could be with like an urn, or a place I go could like a grave. At first, I didn't have anything. I didn't have a sacred place. Or, maybe it was my bed. Because that's where I spent most of my early days. But then, I started to notice the sun, and the sky. And then, I started to feel Jackson, and hear him, when I looked at the sun and sky. Usually in the morning when the sun was rising, or in the sweet summer evenings when it was setting. I could feel that he was telling me to move on, that it was ok. He was telling me he was ok, I didn't need to worry about him or yearn for him or anything like that. I know that probably sounds crazy, and maybe I was a little crazy in those early days. But that is where I found him. That is where I could be with him.
A month after we said goodbye to Jackson, my family went to the Outerbanks. This is where I really found him in the sky. I would get up and walk to the beach each morning. I would look at the world, dark and first but then slowly catching on fire with the sun. I would listen to Oceans, and just be with Jackson, and with Jesus too. The sunrise showed me again that the world can be a beautiful place. It also allowed me to open my mind up enough to remember that Heaven is even more beautiful. How could I be mad that Jackson was there? I can't!
At night I would try to be on the beach around sunset. Even though the sun set over the sound, the colors and the peace on the oceanside were still amazing. A great lesson that everything must end, even each day. I felt Jackson gently in the breeze and in those colors...it was calming and healing.
After we got home from the beach, I started my ritual of walking in our neighborhood each night at sunset. Looking at the sky heals me more each day. Each sunset is special and beautiful in it's own way, and I'm sure I sound nutso but Jackson finds a way to talk to me during this time. Maybe it's just my own love for him helping me and healing me. Whatever it is, I cherish the sun and sky and what I feel when I am watching. It is sacred. I am mothering a baby soul during this special time and I love it.
No, I don't have an urn or a grave or a special garden for Jackson, but I have the beautiful signs I see in each sunrise and sunset that I catch. Even from the house or the car, I can feel my heart healing just a little more. Maybe these times are symbolic too? A sunrise is a new day that I get to start fresh. A sunset is another day done without him that I have lived through. Tons of sunrises and sunsets have gone by, and I am doing ok. I just miss him. But I'm getting used to it.