Five Years

If you read here, you know that this comes with the territory. It's part of our life and it will never go away.

Five years ago today, Lucas Andrew died at the age of ten months; an infant who waited for permission to go I still believe. Our infant. Thank God he spent more months at home than he did in the hospital after the botched surgery. Thank God for that.

Today at the graveside, the Oldest said, "was I alive when Lucas was alive?" Do you know how this crushed me? Of course you were alive! BUT then he followed it with "I remember when you told me he was in Heaven I told you I was hungry." And yes, that's about how it went. I couldn't think or breathe at that moment and found it extremely difficult to even utter the words an hour and a half later to him that his brother had died. When we did, he told us he was hungry. He was three. He was hungry. My husband told him that he did say that and it was just what we needed to remind us that he (the Oldest) was still here and he needed us because Lucas now had a better care taker; God. Wow. I never thought of it like that.

This life is a perfect contradiction to me. I try so hard to think about things from both sides of the spectrum, give folks the benefit of the doubt, listen to the complaints and know that there is merit in those thoughts of 'look how tough I have it' and I respect that everyone deserves to feel what they feel. I believe that fully. There are those that realize it is what it is and there are those that think 'well this is my road, this is my path, it's always this hard for me and it always will be'. I am extremely close with someone who thinks that and I have come to realize the less I comment on it, the less it affects my thinking. I refuse to believe my life is on a path on the road called Tough Drive. If you succomb to that thinking, you're toast. I need to be fluffy and happy and positive and soft for this life. Not hard and crunchy. It's all in your mind. --He's gone. It was not fun. It was actually extremely painful and I have effectively buried it down to my toes. It only comes out certain times of the year and it's probably better that way.

There is happy and there is sad. There is loud and there is quiet. Happy can go with loud and laughter and sad can go with quiet and thoughtful. I am both. I don't think I used to be, but I am now. It's that perfect contradiction. I now make the most of this life even when I'm really mad at my boys, when they are fighting and yelling and driving me nuts, I strive to make the most of it. I pick up little things on the street and throw them in the trash, no one sees me. Maybe God. I park (usually) further away to walk more or let someone else get the close spot. I'm no saint but when I see even tiny opportunities to do the kind thing, I go for it. I wasn't always that way. Thank you Lucas. You have made me a better person. I have no doubt and I am not taking you or this life for granted. I'm grateful we had you and while it still may be hard for me to accept the cruelty of it all, you weren't meant for this place.

One day we'll know the exact reason why...but then as my honey says....maybe we already do....maybe it's the Littlest. Who understands that twisted irony? Not me...can't even wrap half my brain around it but then I look at the Littlest and I think...maybe so. Maybe so.

A million pounds of love to you Lucas. I hope you feel it.

Mom.

-J