Thursday Thoughts...

     Emotions are a funny thing.  I remember someone telling me that when you lose a baby, or any loved one for that matter, the grieving roller coaster will come in waves and sometimes often out of no where.   That has held true for me after losing our Baby Blue when I was 5 months pregnant in Chile.  For the most part, after much heartache in those first few months after we lost him, I have been able to hold him in my heart and continue moving forward with joy and gratitude as our family has grown.  Every year at Christmas, we still find the little ornament that Jake made for him all those years ago, and we hang it on our tree. Even Mack recognizes that he has a brother in heaven and they have a very close connection.  That's a story for another day.  But every once in a great while, an ache will settle inside of me out of the blue, and I take a few minutes to recognize it and feel close to him.  

    Well, I was hit with another surprising one a couple of days ago when I was walking through Costco all alone.  I turned down the cereal aisle and heard a little boy about 3 years old talking with his dad about what they still had left on their list to pick up.  When the dad mentioned that they'd have to grab some eggs and milk, the little boy exclaimed in his own little sweet and innocent way how freezing it would be when they'd have to go in there.  The conversation continued about the ensuing cold as I turn the corner towards the diced tomatoes and beans.  Out of no where, I found my eyes getting a little misty and a little ache formed for just a second.  We have closed the chapter on that stage.  I no longer have a toddler holding my hand on my Costco trips... we don't even own a stroller anymore!  (I was looking for one for Luke and Mack because their Spirit Day was "Bring anything BUT your backpack to School Day.)

    That night as I was wrapping up another busy day and trying to get ready for the next morning, I suddenly realized that Jake didn't yell down to Joe or me that he was ready for bed.  You see, every night since I can remember, Jake would go get his jammies on and then in his loud voice announce, "MOM, DAD!!!  I'M READY FOR BED!!  CAN YOU COME TUCK ME IN?"  And one of us wouldn't cut it if we were both home.  He wouldn't fall asleep until I had gone up and tucked him and and told him I loved him and Joe had gone up and done the same.  If one of us forgot, he'd come out 30 minutes, an hour, later and say, "When are you going to come in?"  He'd wait.  Sometimes when I was extra exhausted, I'd be a little exasperated as to why we both had to go and do the tuck in routine with him.  Our mutual love should flow through one of us, right? 😉 

    Well on Tuesday, he didn't.  All of the sudden I realized he didn't make the announcement.  I ran upstairs and found him with the door slightly ajar and him fast asleep on his bed.  Another little nudge that another chapter has closed.   And now I find myself wanting to run up there to catch him before he falls into that deep comatose state of sleep deprivation that teenagers face to make sure he knows just how much he is loved.  

    Yesterday was my first of many Wednesdays to come of volunteering in Mack's classroom to help with reading with the students.  I get to sit in the back at a little table and one by one the children come to me with a bag of books and they hand me a card that I take notes on and we read together.  I did this when the kids were in school in Chile and in Switzerland and I love it.  Well, the best part about yesterday was that Mack's desk is right by that little table that I was sitting at.  And every moment he had the chance, I'd hear a little whisper, "Mom!"  He would lock eyes with me and form his hands into a heart and smile the biggest smile that would completely melt me.  When it was finally his turn to come sit with me, he sat down, leaned into me and said, "Mom, I love you WAY more than my friends."  

    The bell rang and he reluctantly lined up to head out to recess.  We hadn't finished his book.  He had a few more pages.  He told me that it was fine.  I could just wait there for him to come back😂.  When I explained that it was time for me to go, I watched his little eyes get misty and his shoulders slumped.  I gave him our special hand squeeze and  told him how much I loved him, and then I heard one of his friends ask as they walked out, "Mack, are you sad about something?"  Oh my heart. 

    Kids came home after school and practice and babysitting and were hungry and tired.  Some happy, some moody, some not treating me like I respectfully should be treated😂.   Some choosing not to acknowledge me as I'd hoped.  That ache seemed to find it's way back as I sat at dinner and finished my plate after everyone else had run off to whatever needed to be done.  I can always bank on Mack filling my bucket with one more snuggle and one last hug and yelling to me that I'm the best mom ever as I close his door at night.  I came downstairs to help Jake with a paper and to remind Kate about letters of recommendations for her college applications and suddenly found the rest of us had congregated in the family room.  Without any warning there was laughter and harmony mixed in with a few punches and screams and closeness.  Every time we tried to say family prayer, it was delayed with more laughter.  No one seemed to want to go to bed... and I treasured it.  "I never said it'd be easy, I only said it'd be worth it."  Isn't that was God said?  Well, parenting is a true testament to that.  The many emotions that hit me on any given day is astonishing.  We truly are in the thick of it and I wouldn't trade it.  (If I could squeeze into the equation just 24 hours of alone time, and weekly massages to get rid of my tight neck and shoulders, I'd be golden).  Knowing that in less than a year Kate will be off and our family dynamic will be shifting, I want to soak it up.  All of it.  I mean, I can sleep later, right?