Six months T

I still go into his room every morning and every night. "Hey T, we miss you T , mommy and daddy love you very much, sleep well baby boy" - my conversations. We haven't changed anything in the room. Everything is exactly as it was. I came home today and walked into his room as soon as I got home. I stood at his crib and wondered what would have happened if I had done that six months ago, instead of going for a jog, having dinner, taking a shower - what would have happened if I had gone straight into his room, would he still be here.
We had great plans for his ashes. A portion would go home to Cape Town, some we would scatter in Dallas, at the lake, the remainder we would keep. Ever since we got them the thought of parting with his ashes seems absurd. We have the ashes in a nice wooden box that sits in his crib. Next to the ashes is a picture of Trevor, one of the pictures taken hours before he died. He was so cool. There is also a bag in the crib that contains the clothes he was wearing when he died. We received his clothes back from the funeral home and even though they are shredded up the middle you cannot imagine how important it is for me to have those clothes. Tracy had dressed him up in his new outfit, it was supposed to be a surprise for me. It still annoys me that we did not get his pants back. Somehow they did not make it from the ambulance to the hospital. It seems crazy to be upset about his pants, but those were my boys pants.
When Trevor first died every Tuesday night was especially traumatic, every time I went for a jog, every time we sat down at the dinner table - all reminders. His face was so clear in our minds. Although I think of him every day the reminders get further apart. I can no longer picture his face as clearly as I used to, and that hurts more than you can imagine. I have to look at pictures to remember what he looked like and now the pictures are getting hard to believe - hard to believe that he was really here - love you Trevor