I've been quiet for a while, not for any real reason, other than being busy with my klutzy mom :) .
I've joined a mother's bereavement group. It's work, emotionally, but that's OK.
At times, through this journey of Grey's loss, certain things hit me smack in the face, affirmations that the choices we made were the choices best for Grey.
This Spring there was a little boy at the Little League fields only a few days younger than Grey. Early in the season I couldn't even look at him. It just hurt my heart. As the season went on, he would seek out my attention, and towards the end of the season, I would seek out his. At one of our last games I saw my mom watching him. She asked how old he was, and I told her. Tears filled her eyes. Then I said to her, "Mom, that could have never been Grey. Grey couldn't have run, couldn't have thrown a ball. Grey was stuck, stuck in a broken body." I don't know where the words came from, but they came. I remind myself of those words quite often.
Grey's broken body could have never fully housed his spirit. His spirit was too strong. That's why he had to go. He had to break out of that body and soar, for all the world to see. Moms have to let their children fly. I just had to let mine go a little sooner than most.
And for some reason today, I am reminded that he soars. I see him in places never imaginable. I see his spirit, no longer frustrated with his body's inability to do as he wanted. And as his mom, it gives me peace to know that he is now truly who he was meant to be.
Fly high and play hard Little Man. Your broken body no longer burdens you.
Forever Your Mom