CHOP

So I just went back to their website. Childrens Hospital of Philadelphia. Found a listing of all the current doctors. Several of them are still there that helped Lucas. Seriously it's masochistic what I do to myself.

Today at the picnic someone was asking me about the Littlest (co worker so doesn't know) and then they went on to talk about the Oldest, asking more questions. Nice conversation. Then they point blank asked, "so are those your only two then?". Well, I've come to answer this question honestly. No holds barred. I've come to accept this question will come up and I can't hide Lucas and he is a part of us even though he's not here. Absolutely. But this time, I couldn't. I felt emotion in the conversation and I chose the easy road. I just nodded and looked away. Pain. But then look at the Littlest on my lap. Joy. It's a really perfect blend of the two like a candy cane twisted on itself over and over again.

If he were alive he'd have been at that picnic, in a perfect world, running and playing with all the other kids, making me mad, getting into trouble, maybe having me paint his face. The Oldest got a VT painted on his face and the Littlest refused (I'm so not surprised at either of these two facts; they are polar opposites). But Lucas? I wonder...I don't know his personality..I did when he was six months old....and lost him for four months...then lost him forever. His broken heart is now my broken heart. A heart transplant of sorts. Odd how life works. A perfect juxtaposition.

I think if I walked in those halls again, I'd feel as though I never left. That's how I felt last time we were there for the Candle Lighting in December; like I never left and I was meant to always be there. How can you only have spent two months somewhere; nearly night and day but feel as though you were there a lifetime? It's beyond me.