the box and the force

I feel as though a switch was flipped in my brain after Aidan's due date passed. I was not well before that. I was very sad, very despondent. We had a get-together at our house after my birthday, partially to celebrate and partially because Keith really wanted to have a bonfire. I stayed in my room the whole night and didn't talk to anyone. I'm thankful everyone heeded Keith's warnings and didn't come knocking because I would have ran outside and driven off until they all went home. No joke.

I'm not really sure what made me feel better. Perhaps it was just time passing. Keith and I spent the previous week working on Aidan's box, as we're calling it, and maybe the completion of it put me at ease. This is it, if you're wondering:

Keith actually made it out of oak mantel molding.  He just cut it up into four pieces and put it together. Haha - if it were only that simple.  I stained it a dark brown color and lined it with red velvet...

I also crocheted a tiny lace bag for his ashes, complete with a silk lining:

We transferred his ashes on his due date, and after opening the round, plastic container he was originally in,  we discovered his ashes were in yet another container - a thick plastic bag.  I was kind of grateful for that as I thought his ashes were just floating around in the round tub and I was unsure how to transfer them to his new, prettier bag. We ended up just putting the plastic bag into the lace bag and left it at that. Surprisingly, it fit.   So now Aidan rests inside a plastic bag, within a silk-lined cotton lace bag, within a red velvet-lined oak box. All hand-made (except for the plastic bag). At least he won't spill out anywhere if the box falls over.

I know his box is technically an urn, but I don't like the word urn. Urns have a sad, depressing connotation to me. I'm tired of being sad about Aidan. I want to think of him in a positive light and imagine that wherever he is now that it's a better place for him.  I don't quite believe in heaven or hell or god (even with my roman catholic upbringing and 8? years of torturous catechism), but, rather, energy.  The Force, as I call it. Yes, I believe in the Force. I am not a jedi, although I would love a lightsaber. And don't you always want to say "May the force be with you" for the sign of peace during mass?  No? Anyway...I'm not going to discuss this in great lengths, but I talk to Aidan and always say goodnight to him, hoping his energy can feel mine reaching out to him.  I imagine his energy surrounding me with bright, white light and I try to do the same for him.

Maybe Aidan's energy is more restful now that he's in a nicer home, and that in turn has allowed my energy to calm down. Whatever it is, I'm hoping this little sense of peace I have keeps up.