Tonight at 10:43 will be exactly one month since I have seen my little boy. I miss him so much and as I have said before, it's crazy how some days it just hits me hard -- today has been one of those days.
I just want to see him. I just want to care for him. I would do anything just to take a peek at his monitor, as I so frequently did over the past three years, and see his heart beat. That monitor was so darn annoying yet so comforting at the same time. Each beep meant another heart beat of life. I want to smell his little duckie as it is clenched in his puffy little hands. I want so many things -- things that I just can't have.
Today Madison and I stopped to get coffee and I was having all these flashbacks of bringing both the kids in daily to WaWa to get my morning coffee. When Gavin was small and still in an infant carrier and before Adam and I became enlightened to the idea of carrying all his pumps and monitors in one big bag, I would have Gavin in the crook of one arm and a TPN bag, a Feeding pump bag and a monitor bag in the other arm -- not to mention my little girl who wad only a small tot and my purse. I was a nut. I fully admit it. And then there were the days after he got his power chair -- we would still all go in. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
The thing about death that is the hardest for me is that I can't control it. I can't bring him back. I can't make the hurt go away. It's not like there is a relationship to heal or a long lost friend that needs to be found -- I can't bring my little boy back and after 3 1/2 years of making things ok -- making them work despite the struggle it would be -- I cannot make this work. I can't control death.
That just stinks.
Makes me realize how greatful I am for hope.
If I didn't have Him to pull me out of this pit then who would?