Cora stood in the nursery, her eyes filled with tears as they had been for the past week. She kept her hand on the side of the crib as she gazed down at her beautiful little granddaughter.
Her granddaughter who was the spitting image of her precious Sybil when she was born.
The mother's heart ached in ways she didn't understand for her baby. Whatever she did, it's like she could feel the loss of her baby.
Cora chose to spend most of her time alone, or with Tom, because he was the one who most understood how intense her grief was. They often stood in silence as they held or watched Sybbie. Neither knew what to say about such a horrible loss, and if they did, neither wanted to believe that things would eventually get better. A mother and a husband of the most kind, strong, wonderful woman didn't want to think of moving on from her.
But that's the thing about loss. Loss is easy to come by, and difficult to recover from, but it will be filled, even if it comes slowly. Through baby gibberish and first steps and saying "Dada" and "Granny", Tom and Cora would find the strength to go on.
Tom quietly entered the nursery, shutting the door behind him. Walking over to the crib, he stood opposite to his mother-in-law.
His tearful eyes observed his sleeping daughter as she stirred. As she began to fuss, he gently scooped her up and held her against his chest. "Don't, don't cry, my baby. I'm here."
Tears dripped down Cora's face as she heard the term of endearment. Her baby was gone, but, her baby's baby was here, and she had a wonderful father to take care of her. Even if she would never be fully all right again, she knew that Sybbie would be. She would grow up to be just as beautiful and strong and lovely as her baby was.