I wonder...

I wonder if they had just brought my son back to me after I was cleaned up and stable if the time I could have had would have left a less traumatic wound on my heart.

I wonder how it would have felt to hold his sweet body against mine.  To unwrap him and feel him skin to skin against my chest.

I wonder if my heart would be more at peace of I had been given the chance to bath him and dress him.   Let's face it... he was already dead. What harm could it have done?

I wonder if my sweet husband would have been given some privacy from the staff while he held his son for only those few minutes if he would have allowed himself to grieve.  If we could have had a few moments the 3 of us to cuddle and be his parents together. His wife sobbing in a hospital bed while he sat in a chair helplessly holding his dead son must haunt him. Physically,  we were seperated.  Those few inches felt like a brick wall.

I wonder if anyone would have suggested we take or own pictures if I could let the lazy photographer who didn't even make an attempt off the hook. 

I wonder why any of the staff could not recognize the horror of that silent room.  The comfort of some soft music could have changed our memories forever.

But most of all,  I wonder what his beautiful eyes must have looked like. I dream of his gaze meeting mine.   I pray that is the first thing I see when I join him in heaven.

But for now, I'm left to wonder...

Strawberry milk...

Summer break is in full swing at our house!  Kids come and go at all hours of the day. Some we get to claim on our taxes, others are sweet little extras to fill our days.

Quiet moments with just one daughter are rare. I hope one day when they look back, they remember that I really tried when an impromptu moment arose. Today it came in the form of strawberry milk.

I had been outside weeding after dinner until the bugs were attacking. I came inside frustrated that my time has been cut short in the garden. at the same time, our youngest daughter had just come out of the shower and joined me in the family room for some mindless TV. I honestly am not sure which one of us thought of it, but instantly we both had to have strawberry milk. This is quite the random idea if you know me and how hard I try to keep something so full of sugar out of my pantry.

We jumped up together and comically hurried into the kitchen. She managed to find some strawberry milk mix in the pantry and we begin to jokingly argue over shaker bottles. I don't know if she realized how hard I had been struggling all day. I don't know if she saw the pain in my eyes, or the tears I snuck off to wipe a few times. Maybe she caught me looking at his picture for a few extra seconds. Or maybe he was weighing heavy on her own heart. But for that few silly moments in the kitchen, I was able to put down some of the burden. To simply allow myself the few moments of laughter and let the pain rest.

We took our strawberry milk back into the family room. I sat on the couch with my sweet kid watching a reality show about a tattoo shop, and bouncing ideas off of her of what I would like to get in memory of her brother.

Most days my life is busy, chaotic, comical, overwhelming, blessed, painful, loud, and completely unpredictable. But today over a shaker bottle of strawberry milk on ice,  everything just felt calm.

Wishing you all a beautiful calm moment every single day.  For those of you hurting for whatever reason, allow yourself that moment of indulgence.   Put down your burdens long enough to exhale.  #doitforcj with me!

Emotional hail damage...

Sitting in my car in a parking lot as hail pounded the roof was enough to push me over the edge today.

These moment come less frequently now.   They start as a situation completely rational for some anxiety,  and blossom into me in hysterics in what feels like a millisecond.  

I was soaked and freezing from unloading my grocery cart.  Soaked to the point of shivering and trying to focus through burning contacts.   I thought I just needed to get home.   But as soon as I pulled out the hail sounded like gunshots.  I actually screamed as if  someone had jumped out and scared me.

I found refuge parked against a large brick building to block the majority of the hail. Once the car was in park, I collapsed into sobs.

My sweet CJ.....

He was alone.

Was the ground flooding?  Were the trees over him protecting him or falling on top of him?    My thought got much darker.   I'll spare myself the heartache of repeating them.  And I cried with tears that felt like acid.  (That new mascara will be tossed immediately!  Ouch!!) 

I eventually made it home and my sweet daughter came out with an umbrella to unload groceries.  I laughed watching her juggle in the downpour.  I laughed harder as I realized she stacked groceries safely under the covered porch, but blocking her own access to the door.  Just moments after feeling pain no mother should ever feel,  I was laughing.

Tomorrow I'll swing by the cemetery.  Branches with probably need to be cleared and my horrific day terror thoughts will be put to rest seeing his ground intact.   And somehow,  I pray that will bring me some peace.

Sipping my coffee to warm up,  watching our Blackhawks dominate Tampa,  and praying for God's grace to help me keep on with the quest to #doitforcj.