Our daughter Britten made a keepsake quilt for us out of Tracy's old jeans. She had already made and given a small one to Tracy's girlfriend, Amanda. Britten gave us ours when we returned from Oregon, a belated birthday gift for Reed. She presented it rolled up and wrapped in a ribbon. I have planned for months to put it on Tracy's bed downstairs, but for now, I would rather hold it--and cry. It is the closest I can come now to hugging my son. A part of my Tracy to have and to hold. I have asked the Lord, since I can have no new memories with Tracy, to make my memories of his childhood more vivid. Holding the blanket triggers those memories of holding my baby, my little boy.
I know someday I will be ready to untie the ribbon and put the quilt to more practical use than a king sized handkerchief or a surrogate son. I am, by nature, a practical person. But for now it is a tangible connection to Tracy--to have and to hold.
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