The Wicker Basket..

Tonight when I came home, I allowed myself to imagine for a moment.

I closed my eyes and listened hard for that slight stirring in that wicker basket. I never knew whether you smelled that I was home or that the light streaming in from the door cast a little shadow onto your basket. But often, you would stir from your sleep and cock your head up to look at me.

On days when I'm tired, I just walk past you and go get my towel to go shower. Sometimes on the way to the bathroom, guilt strikes me and I kneel down to play with you for awhile. Sometimes when the mood hits me, I immediately pick you up from the basket to shower you with love or at least give you a light pat because I didn't want to disturb your rest.

Tonight, no wicker basket was in the house. No stirring could be heard. You're instead resting peacefully in that little porcelain urn.

A part of me wishes I had played with you more often but I also know that you know how much I love you and you know how much mummy loves you too. Whatever the nature of things truly are, I have to tell myself that because knowing it any other way would just not suffice, would just not keep me sane.

Someday the tears will stop flowing and the heart will stop aching but my memories for you will never be forgotten and there will always, always, be a special place in my heart reserved for you.