I wanted to work out what i might actually say in english if i were on the ground feeling around for small bits of my son's body. i decided i'd take one of my three shells and put it on the rug as the eye that i'd find.
i sat down and first leaned on my left arm to search with my right hand, then quickly altered to kneeling so i could use both hands at once.
when i found the shell, which i had decided was belonging to my older son, sorry tom for picking you, i picked it up with my right hand on the ground, then immediately moved my other hand so both hands were cupping it down there on the rug, my left hand under my right hand.
then i immediately brought my hands up to my heart and held it there right next to my heart.
i imagined why i'd show it to a photographer/journalist, they'd be there watching everything that was going on, standing up and looking down, with their attention and gaze on me. i held it up to show him, still using both hands, and i imagined i'd say very softly and simply this is thomas's eye, not looking at the photographer, but keeping my gaze on the eye in my hands.
then i stayed in that situation, kneeling with my hands between my knees, just holding and holding, my gaze entirely focused on this, just still, aware that he'd been born out between my legs and now just one part was there, my face was still, no expression, just my heart beating loudly.
eventually i wanted to get up and leave this experiment, but i suddenly realised i didn't want to let go of the shell, so i went to do some cooking still holding it. even now, typing this with my right hand, my left hand is holding it while holding up my laptop at the same time. i brushed my teeth and had a shower, swapping it from hand to hand.
i need to return the shell to being just that and leave this experiment behind, but i'm not ready, this is about finding and letting go, and about imagination and reality. mother and son, living and outliving a child,
i'll report back in the morning
The point at which I put the shell down was when I wanted to check Twitter in the dark on my phone before falling asleep. I shifted into the current world.