Circle of Life

Dear Aaron,

It's been a few days since I wrote, and yet another month you don't know. Doesn't mean I don't miss you, think about you, love you.  

There's been a lot going on; I suspect you're more than aware of it. Not my story to share yet, but both joy and heartache for people I love. 

What a blessing family is, and this whole "circle of life" thing has really got me wrapped up. Oh, my son, what a wonderful circle yours was, or is, or something. I mean, circles really never end, do they?

Today I'm going for a physical, sigh...

I was unable to find clothes that would take 15 (or more) pounds off for the scale so I guess I'm just going to have to face that one. And I recognized the mental health screening questions. Yep, I'm gonna get flagged. But maybe just a little flag? I mean, most were in the "we need to talk about this zone" but then the one that asks about how it's affecting your ability to perform your various responsibilities I think I'm okay on. I guess we'll just roll with things.

I mean, you're gone. My heart shattered in a million pieces, and while it (somehow) still functions, I don't think it will ever be the same. I'm gluing it back together, piece by piece, but even when broken things are repaired beautifully, they're never quite the same. But things like Linnaea coming up and knocking, "Can I come play?", and Elend climbing the steps and saying "Gramma, Grampa house." Your brothers teasing each other, Mary playing with the little ones, Deborah holding Barrett, and other even more tender moments...

Family. I'm so, so grateful for my family. And you're still a part of it, just where I can't see you anymore, but I think I felt you earlier this week. Was that you? Were you there?

Spring. 

My wind chimes ring.

Flowers bloom.

They go through the circle of life, too. 

Each year my tulips and daffodils come up again, even though the deer love to munch on the tulips. And each summer they die back as the other flowers bloom. 

I know you'll bloom again; I know I'll see you, hold you, love you. But sometimes, it seems like this "winter" without you lasts way too long. 

Miss you so much.

Love you even more.

Love, 
Mama

"He wasn't just dying, of course.
He was living and dying and being reborn all at the same time..."

~Frances Fineman Gunther