Nobody ever told Yongguk that crying felt so good. He didn’t cry when his mother died. He didn’t cry when his father hit him for all the things he didn’t do. He didn’t even cry when his wife left him for another man after their baby had died. But now, clutching the Tigger doll in his hands, he was crying.

            The tears were dripping and falling down his face. He was gasping and he couldn’t control anything. Yongguk’s shoulders were shaking and his head hurt. His hands trembled and Yongguk hunched in on himself. He wiped the tears off the doll and held it against his chest.

            If he tried hard enough, he could smell the scent of baby powder and lotion. How long had it been since he had packed everything away to not remember? How long had it been since he had knocked down the walls to the nursery just so there would be no more memories? His wife had grieved but eventually she had decided enough was enough.

            “We can always more children, Yongguk,” she had plead. But his heart had shattered. It had always been his dream to have a baby, a baby boy and when Yongwon came, he saw him as a gift. Yongguk treasured his son like no other father had treasured his son. He stayed up at night to listen to him breathe, delighting in every coo that passed the infant’s mouth.

            Yongguk took a month off from work to stay at home and to let his wife rest. In actuality, Yongguk’s main motive was to see his osn grow. He was there when he first turned over and when he was able to support his baby bottle. He spoiled his son; taking him out to play whenever he could and playing him music every night.

            “You’re more a mother to him than I am,” his wife joked. Yongguk blushed and would flash his gummy smile at the gurgling infant.

            “I’m just a really dedicated father.”

            Yongguk presented Yongwon with his childhood best friend. “Yongwonnie, meet Tigger. This man has helped me through all my ups and downs and now he’ll be here for you too. Say hi, Tigger. You have to take good care of my son, okay? You can’t let us down. Lead him with my grandfather’s spirit and give him comfort when he needs and give him guidance when he asks for it, just like you did with me.” He solemnly presented the toy to his son.

            Yongwon took it and clutched it to his chest, the stuffed animal about as large as his body. He giggled and made a loud smacking sound as he hit the tiger against his chest. Yongwon giggled and Yongguk his son’s cheek. “Grow up to be a good man.”

            Sudden infant death syndrome, SIDS, the doctors had told them, was common. Babies were fragile beings. They succumbed to any illness fairly easily. It wasn’t anything they had done wrong. They made sure Yongwon received all his shots and he was healthy. It may have been that his pillow sank a little low and maybe his neck twisted accidently and he couldn’t fix it.

            Babies were meant to be handled with care. It didn’t necessarily have to be anything they did. After all, it was an accident. Yes, it was a tragedy, but they were a young couple. They could have more children and no, this would most likely not happen again.

            Yongguk had came home to find his wife on the floor, screaming. She was desperately pumping the baby’s chest and trying to open his mouth and force air in. He had been confused, seeing the Tigger flung haphazardly across the room and his wife on the floor. “He’s not breathing!”

            Yongguk threw himself on the ground and fumbled with his phone, dialing the ambulance. He used CPR and tried to get his son to breathe again. When the ambulance came, Yongguk pushed the Tigger into the paramedic’s arms. “You have to keep this next to him. He wouldn’t be able to sleep without it.”

            But the moment the doctor walked out of the emergency room, he shook his head. “SIDS,” he told them gravely. “It’s hard to tell what killed him. I’m sorry.” Yongguk didn’t cry. His wife did. She broke down next to him and wailed, causing families to stare at them.

            Yongguk only shook. He didn’t want to believe it. Just three hours ago, before he had left, Yongguk had played with Yongwon. His son had laughed with him and clapped his hands for the first time. Yongguk had felt safe leaving him for a few hours.

            He hadn’t been able to get over it. He never cried but he felt his heart shattering piece by piece. His mother-in-law and his wife planned the funeral. Yongguk withdrew from public and shut himself in his room. His wife had packed everything away and tried to get him to live again. But Yongguk rejected her again and again. A few months later, she left him. He was living in the past and she couldn’t take it. He didn’t care. Nothing could replace Yongwon.

            It took him a few more weeks until Yongguk decided he was going to have to move forward. He had gone through the closets and then the Tigger fell out. All the pent up emotions rushed through him and he started to cry.

            Yongguk shuddered one last time and stared at the Tigger in his hands. He held his childhood companion near him and closed his eyes. It would take time to heal and time meant now.

requested by An_Yeong_Jae and merna8

This was something new.