Today starts like any other day, dragging myself out of bed
to run in and check on Avis for the millionth time since she fell asleep. Holding
my breath as I tip-toe in her room and back out – quiet as a mouse. Feewww, I
made it. Our morning routine begins as most do with a toddler, showers, breakfast,
lunches, dressing etc. all in the attempt to appear you have it all-together
and so on. Then on to the waking routine and the stealing of as many morning
snuggles as we can gather, so we may get through our day before we rush off to the
office. At least that is how it goes for me. Then of course I have guilt that
rides along with me on my way to work every day, yes there is that. Today is just
like every other morning, except today it is not every other day. Today grief
joins me on my way. This passenger has never really left – I continue to get craftier
at disguising it as the years pass. I have to convince myself all the way in “do not go to the bathroom to cry today,
Do-Not-Do-It”. But I know at some point I will break for it is a given.
I still count every day, not a loud, but subconsciously I
know how long it’s been since I held our Owen last. Three years since I
breathed in his scent and starred into those sweet brown eyes. Three years
since the Dr’s words pierced me with such pain. Three years still seems just
like days ago. Every new and wonderful milestone that meets us with his little
sister, I can’t help to think what-might-have-been. I keep tabs on my friends
and families little ones that were born around the same time as Owen; truly
happy and excited to see what they are doing now at the age of three. I am
always at wonder and awe of them, their newness to the world. Then I ponder how
different it would be for our family with both Owen and Avis to chase after. I
daydream about that often. While our daughter was in daycare I couldn’t help to
smile when I would see displays of sibling adoration by the sweet peas that
mimicked the age of ours. It was always followed by the intense fear that I was
going to break down and start sobbing knowing our daughter will never know the
love of a big brother and vice-versa. It’s those daily double-edged emotions
that serve as reminder that my family will never be complete on this earth.
Shortly after the birth of Avis I was asked, if having her made life better/easier without
Owen, my answer was simple and honest – No.
Don’t get me wrong, there is much joy in our life, and much to be thankful for.
Joy attributed by both of our children, but joy can and does exist with great grief.
That’s my life and I can handle God’s will. Because for whatever reason He believes
I can. And so I go on, focusing up on what is before me: a wonderful, loving,
strong and faithful husband, an adorable, sassy, snuggly and growing little
girl, both of which overfill my cup – and a sweet strong little warrior of a
son whose time here with me/us was much too short. I believe strongly our past
shapes our future. Owen will always be the reason I continue forward, it’s okay
to look back and hold fast to his memory, it is okay that today is not every
other day, it is okay to make multiple trips to the ladies room and re-apply
water-proof mascara. It is all going to be okay, we can move forward without
losing sight of our past.
As the day winds down and I race off to scoop up my little
peanut, I will hold her tighter today and smoother her with kisses to try and
make up for the years I have not been able to dote on her brother. I will race
around the house making dinner, reading books, dancing wildly, giving baths,
changing diapers – trying to hold it together and plan head for the day to
come, just as I do every other day. All the while in the back of my mind I know
differently, my heart knows differently. On the outside it is just another
Monday, inside it never will be. It is the 8th of July, with many more
to come.
Sweet boy my love for you continues to grow each day, just
as it does for your father and sister. You have been a seed of strength and
faith in my life and I will continue to grow in the years to come because of
you. Love to the heavens, love on the eighth. Love you , love you always.
