2 1/2 years

To my dear sweet Hayden: Two years and six months...seems significant, but it's just another day without you. To quote something you tweeted once from Calvin & Hobbes, "Know what's weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change. But pretty soon-everything is different."

To everyone else: Everything is different. I've lost some friendships and made new ones. I have a different outlook on life. I feel like I have a message to share with people I know who have sons his age-sons who are at a crossroads now with their lives, college, careers. There can be so much to worry about at this stage, but moms, be thankful for that. I don't have any more worries about Hayden-instead I have sorrow. I am glad that he is at peace and in the presence of the Lord now, but I miss him so much. I don't mean to scare anyone, but what happened to me can happen to anyone. Tomorrow is not guaranteed, so treasure what you have now. I'm not saying this to get anyone to feel sorry for me, I want to use it as a reminder for you to cherish every moment that God gives you with your precious children.

I will leave you with an old thought and a new thought. The old thought is from some of my old blog posts I've been going through:

"Death changes everything.
Time changes nothing.
I still miss the sound of your voice,
the wisdom in your advice,
the stories of your life
and just being in your presence.
I miss you as much today
as I did the day you died.
I just miss you."

The new thought is from something I came across the other day on a Facebook page for mothers who have lost older children. It's by someone named Leah DuCharme:

"If we are fortunate,
we are given a warning.

If not,
there is only the sudden horror,
the wrench of being torn apart;
of being reminded
that nothing is permanent,
not even the ones we love,
the ones our lives revolve around.

Life is a fragile affair.
We are all dancing
on the edge of a precipice,
a dizzying cliff so high
we can't see the bottom.

One by one,
we lose those we love most
into the dark ravine.

So we must cherish them
without reservation.
Now.
Today.
This minute.
We will lose them
or they will lose us
someday.
This is certain.
There is no time for bickering.
And their loss
will leave a great pit in our hearts;
a pit we struggle to avoid
during the day
and fall into at night.

Some,
unable to accept this loss,
unable to determine
the worth of life without them,
jump into that black pit
spiritually or physically,
hoping to find them there.

And some survive
the shock,
the denial,
the horror,
the bargaining,
the barren, the empty aching,
the answered prayers,
the sleepless nights,
when their breath is crushed
under the weight of silence
and all that it means.

Somehow, some survive all that and,
like a flower opening after a storm,
they slowly begin to remember
the one they lost
in a different way...

The laughter,
the irrepressible spirit,
the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel,
the encouragement they gave
even as their own dreams were dying.

And in the time, they'll fill the pit
with other memories
the only memories that really matter.

We will still cry.
We will always cry.
But with loving reflection
more than hopeless longing.

And that is how we survive.
That is how the story should end.
That is how they would want it to be.