Not the best day of my life.
But not the worst, either. THAT was exactly 14 years ago today, when I woke up in the morning with a healthy, happy 48 day old baby, and before lunch, was sitting in a doctors' surgery trying to come to grips with the fact that the baby was now dead.
After that one, came the funeral - pretty close second - and really, everything else pales by comparison.
For the first time in 10 years, I'm living again in the town where it all happened. I drive past the house I was living in, the surgery where they tried to revive him, the funeral home, the shop where I bought funeral outfits for my other kids (now THAT'S a surreal experience) -- and of course, the cemetery. I've been past it a few times but I haven't 'visited' yet. Later today.
I can't wait for tomorrow.