In the months immediately after Ryann died I would often pop into BabyGap over my lunch break just to pretend that I was still looking for pieces for Ryann. The poor sales girls were probably confused why I usually left in such a hurry, often in tears. I still can't resist making a pass through the girls section and finding a pair of jeans or a dress in the size that she would probably be wearing by now. It's always a shock.
One day, about a month after Ryann died, Jared came home with a little package. On his habitual visit to our local coffee shop he had noticed a neighboring shop that displayed knick knacks and toys for children. He went inside and met the sweetest shop owner who we have chatted with several times since. One of the few people who didn't bat an eye the first time we told her about Ryann. Who shared her own story of her own heartache. Who waves and chats to Clif whenever we see her, and shares a smile over his head with each of us knowing that the other fully understands just how longed for this wee one was.
That first day in the shop Jared bought a little shirt with a little tie. Eventually we tucked it away in a box. For someday.
