It's been 1 year...12 months...365 days...A blink in time...An eternity, since our lives were shattered by your unexpected death, my sweet little nephew.
I was so excited for your birth...so excited to be your auntie. When we learned that your heart had stopped, I wanted to scream & scream & scream...but I didn't. It was internalized. The silent scream. We gathered together here in WA so far from you and your mama & daddy. We were so grateful that your Uncle Michael and Auntie Janelle were there with them. And we were so scared that we were not just going to lose you, but your mommy as well. We felt so helpless being so far away.
Over this past year, there were times I thought our family would fall apart from grief. The holidays were numbing. We were grieving for you but wanted them to be special for your cousin Teagan. Without knowing it Teagan was a great part of our healing. She helped us laugh again. She reminded us to love deeply instead of guarding our hearts tightly against the pain in this world.
However, with every milestone she reached (first holidays, walking, talking, exploring life) there was a little bit of me that would reflect with sadness that you would never have these milestones. Instead, you will have yearly anniversaries...different kinds milestones.
For instance, this summer your Gramma & I planted a rose bush in your honor. Your cousin helped us. It's a beautiful climbing rose called "Joseph's Coat." Its blossoms are amazing: they were yellow, then pinkish, then orange. Vibrant. Incredible.
There is a special time of night~dusk really~when the sky turns the most amazing blue. It is during this time that the first star appears. It is brilliant. It's probably really a planet~ but what do I know? I think of this as your star; your sky. I often sit on the front porch during that time and think of you...talk to you. (Yeah, yeah, your Auntie M is a little crazy.) And I talk to God~sometimes asking him (once again) "Why?!" Sometimes thanking him that you are with him & that we can find hope in knowing that, one day, we will all be reunited with you.
Your mama & daddy moved up here in May. We are so glad to have them close by. And someday you will be a big brother. Your siblings will be so loved~but they will not replace you. I hope they will know how much we all love their big brother.
Today, Gramma & I went to the river to scatter some of the dried petals from your rose bush to honor you.
It was a grey day, a little chilly. The park was relatively empty and we got to spend quite some time alone on the bridge. We spent a lot of that time in silence~with just the sound of the water and birds, and nature surrounding us. The water was very calm. After feeling for such a long time that we were being tossed about in an ocean, the stillness was very peaceful. It was a good place to reflect. To feel at peace.
A year ago, our lives were shattered. A year later, we are mending. We will always miss you. Always love you. Never forget you. ♥
Love,
Your Auntie M
Well written my friend. I have chills and tears in my eyes. xoxo Love you all!
ReplyDeleteThanks Ash~love you.
ReplyDeleteAs always dear Mary, your writing evokes beautiful thoughts and memories; precious Demetri's Day, here in Temecula, will always live in our hearts. We are not family but we so cherish having been there with you all.
ReplyDeleteI am glad to peek through this not so secret (but it feels just so) window of technology to share, through your moving pictures, ever so slightly in the healing you and your mom (I love her so!) shared spending time together remembering this precious child. Grant and I, too, shall never forget Demetri; indeed.... I find myself thinking of Demetri quite often.
And now.....we rejoice in little brother Dante!!! We give continual praise to our Lord for him! I CAN imagine how he feels in your arms dear friend!
Much love you Mary,
Missy
Thank you, Missy! You've got me crying!
ReplyDelete~M