There is very little I can now do for my forever little boy. But there are some things I can do.
This year, I thought it would be nice to get some shamrock plants and bring them out to his grave.
When I transplanted them from their little pot into a bigger one, I noticed this year's first butterfly sitting on the rim, flapping its wings in what I am choosing to interpret as approval. A pretty looking one he was too.
Eoghan helped me to gently move him outside to a safer spot and we hope he has been enjoying the sunshine of the past few days out there somewhere.
The day, unlike many a previous St. Patrick's Day, was a glorious one with plenty of sunshine. While most of the time I do not tend to linger long at Patrick's resting place because more often than not at this time of year it is drizzly, miserable, drafty and cold, it was actually bathed in sunshine and warm. We put down his pot of shamrock and brought another one to his great-grandmothers grave also.
It is only those small little things that are left for us now...To let him know he is thought about and always always missed.
His little brother has taken to talking about wanting to take a rocket into space to visit Patrick and Holy God up in heaven.
I wish it was that simple...
Miss you lots, Sproggy-pops.
