Softly gone to sleep

Your sister tried my shoes on today.  I snapped a photograph that reminded me of my school days.  Someday she'll wear shoes like those and pose for pics with a dress on and her hair all done up.  Her smile will remind me of you.  You'll never have a pic like that.  You'll never have that chance. 

I take pictures on my phone a lot since the day the girls had fairy pictures and orbs were in so many.  I keep trying to see signs of you.  A leaf fluttered down the street; I thought it was a butterfly and it wasn't.   Falling leaves and colored trees are opposite ends of time from you.  You were born in the spring when the world was waking up and life was promised new.  Now the world is slowly falling softly back to sleep to the sounds of fluttering scittering leaves as though you never left the fall when you were conceived, you were born asleep. 

I still miss you so terribly.  It just isn't fair.  Each day there are reminders of how you are not here.  "Miss what do the letters stand for on your bracelet?" They stand for the missing piece I want to say but instead I just respond, "the baby" and the student's face makes a silent "oh" and nods and on my day goes.  Each day there are several reminders similar to this.  I want to talk about you but each and every time I do it's a reminder that I'm alive without you.  I would give up each and every wish from a genie in a bottle just to have you back again.  Genies don't exist.  Falling leaves exist and passing time but not babies named Gabraella Joy.  Last year at this time you were still alive

Part of me wants to hurl things at the unfairness of it all, but instead I sit in the darkness resigned.  I wonder if you sit beside me softly touching on my hair.  I wonder if you sit beside me wiping away my tears as I try to softly fall asleep I wish I knew if you were really there.