I spent some time visiting the grave markers of these children, thinking about their parents and noting how old they were when they died and how long it has been since then. (Everyone does this, right? Yeah, probably not. But I do.)
I was getting closer to where the cache was hidden when a young woman arrived and walked over to one of the tiny stones. It already had a lot of decorations surrounding it. She waved to me; I waved back. I didn't want to intrude on her moment with her child, and I didn't want her to see me look for the cache, so that's when I sat behind a tree and sobbed. (Ugly cry sobbed. Snorting, snotty sobbed. Puffy eyes, the whole works. I'm a hot mess.) I heard music. I think she might have been singing.
After awhile, I realized she was gone, so I quickly found the cache where I knew it was hidden. Lots of times with these things, you leave a trinket and take one, but this one was too small for that, so I still had a trinket in my pocket. One the way back to my car, I stopped at her child's grave. Stuck in the ground next to a bunch of flowers was still smoldering incense. It was beautiful and tragic. I placed my trinket -- a clear glass gem -- next to the incense.
He was almost 3 months old when he died last August. His name is Ethan.