“Mom, remember when B used to take my cars.”
“Yes, I do. B loved all of your toys and wanted to make them his own! He would grab a car and just run from you!”
“Yeah, that was funny. I miss B.”
Time gets ahead of us so fast. We used to think time stood still, like we were trapped in a glass box with everyone staring in. Now, time has simply…passed. With a blink of an eye, months, almost years, have gone by us. Our oldest, T, is becoming a young boy, no longer a tiny toddler. He used to love kisses and hugs; he would much rather have his game system or Lego’s at this point!
And B, well, B would have been huge, just huge! He was born a big baby and always measured off the charts. It was really amusing because we would say to him, “Who is SO big?” He would chuckle. His chubby cheeks and thick thighs made him a beast, compared to his tall, skinny brother! T is our sensitive soul, while B would have been the rough and tumble tough guy.
We now see other kids his age and just imagine he is there with them, playing, laughing, skipping. We wonder what he would be eating, or watching on television, or what is favorite story would be. We wonder because it is all we can do. However, we know he is playing among others in heaven. We know he is among other children and they are dancing and singing. We know he is among our family and friends; we know he is safe. It is just difficult because we miss his touch, his warmth. The way his brother would laugh when he did steal his cars. The way he slept on Daddy’s chest on the couch, while T and I played puzzles.
We have so many memories, and we are thankful. Yet, we always just struggle with the “why” aspect. Whether we lose someone so young or someone so old, I think that question comes and goes; it has been awhile for us. Now that it is back, we recall that we shouldn’t question the “why” or live in grief that holds the shoulders down so tight that you want to hide from the world. We accept that it happened, that such tragedy happens to others we know as well. We choose to live life the way B would be proud, and that is to keep each other happy and healthy. When we think of B, we think of the memories we created, even if time was too short. We know he sends us messages from heaven, like “Remember me and smile.” When life gets ahead of us, we all need to stop and smile once in a while.
Helping Him Grieve 
Very well said.
We ask, ‘why did my child die?’ to make sense of the unspeakable, but we wouldn’t understand the answer.
Over time, we eventually accept that our kids are gone from our lives, the newly bereaved never imagining that acceptance ever comes, but it does, bringing blessed relief from the pain. It still hurts, but we realize the wound isn’t mortal and we have our lives to live. And a choice about how well we are going to live our lives.
T is a sweet, little hand, helping you up from your knees.
Well said that the newly bereaved never believe acceptance will come. I have recently helped some friends try to grasp that understanding. Thanks.
I miss his big man hands and the way he used to play with us when I had him. He was definitely your rough and tough but he would have also been the teddy bear! I have been thinking of him so much myself lately. He would be so proud of I guys. I know I am!
You were always great with him (even though he probably threw your back out!) Thanks for caring for him and caring for us!
You have done such a good job keeping your son’s memory alive for your family and his brother. I think of the song “Who you’d be today” as the 8th anniversary of my son’s passing approaches next month. Thank you for shairng
The song is just lovely. Thanks so much.