I have been given a bundle...and this little bundle of mine gave me a bundle of wildflowers today.
We were out of the house a little late this morning which puts all of us into an "awe man" mode with these hot summer days. We had the best of intentions, but when Daddy got home, I was sidetracked in talking to Daddy...and after I took my medicine on an empty tummy, I am "supposed" to wait a full hour before eating. Well, then I want to wait another half hour before running!
It was 10:30 when we finally left...post tire inflation! It was a hard run, but hard runs are good for me. The boys push me when they're on their bikes...Connor even rode back to me once and said, "At this point it is all down hill Mommy, so it should be easier!" Yes, I have a bundle of angels.
When we got to the pond in our development, I ran up a hill four separate times (pushing the jogger of course!) to try and gain a little strength with these hills (or as Connor called me out on, in hysterical laughter, these "heels"...in my pronunciation!). I looked over at Lydia using her tiny body to run up the hills with me, and as I did...I planned what I would do if she came in harms way...if a car came toward her unexpectedly. I thought of everything I could do...
And then...as I watched my four beauties gather wild flowers for ME...
my heart sank.
You can never really get over the reality of not being able to protect your babe in this life.
I surely have a testimony that it was Shane's time to go. I truly believe that all of the thoughts the Lord gave me prior to my baby's passing were given to me in preparation for his loss...because he was so celestial to begin with.
Yet, I will never forget the fact that I left that home on that Saturday morning...filling his tummy with his last peaceful feeding...
I will never get over the fact that it is really my dear husband who bears such awful pains regarding our ultimate loss in the last moments of our baby's life.
It was Steve who comforted him when he woke screaming.
It was Steve who tried desperately to place him down for a nap.
It was Steve who went in and found a lifeless body.
It was my dear Steve who performed CPR, called 911, and then watched the medical professionals grab our baby and run.
It was Steve who was left with two little boys that he had to leave with a neighbor so that he could be with his dying son.
How does he get over all of that in this life?
You can never understand the pain and tears which fell over us and our faces as we walked up the stairs to our second story apartment in a slothful sorrowful pace, knocked on our neighbors door, saw our boys, and wept even harder.
How do you tell your young boys they...unexpectedly...with no time to say goodbye...cannot see and hold their cherished baby brother again.
They waited so long for him, rubbing my belly, excited for him to get in on their "Cars" addiction with them. They held him...for a short time. Enough time to see and hear laughs and to remember tiny grasping hands finding their delicate fingers...and bouncing them up and down (Connor describes it to this day as a rocket ship...Shane took his finger and used it to blast off like a rocket ship!)
It was tragic. It was traumatizing. BUT...it was what we were given to do.
I can imagine that with a sweet 6 year old boy running the fields, this pile of wild flowers would be larger than this. He would add to it immensely...with his gracious smile and tiny hands,
just as each of my beauties added to it...not only with a flower, but with the thrill of their offerings for me, their Mommy.
My beautiful Connor still remembers Shane vividly...I am certain that dear Connor, in his amazing upright and righteous behaviors, is being guided on high through his brother as well...in order to lead out these siblings in the Lord's way.
I was led to a blog the other day about grieving the loss of your child...it is well worth your reading!
It explains grieve in the exact way no words can explain grief...from a Daddy's perspective.
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