June 1st

Dear Aaron,

A crystal pendant hangs in my window where it catches the morning sun and sends rainbows into the room. 

"Look for me in rainbows...

And I do.

Another that Gramma and Grampa gave me for Christmas a few years ago hangs in my office window. Another on the back door. An angel on my rearview mirror.

I see rainbows everywhere. And I see you, too. Not with my eyes, with my heart.  

June 1st, and Facebook reminded me today that once again, you were admitted to the PICU on this date. It was a lights and sirens call, bagging you on 20 liters all the way there. A few days later I placed a call to Andrew's mission president to let him know that you might not make it.  

June 2023

But you did. Your golden birthday wasn't what I had planned in my mind, but we held it. Child Life and Social Work brought decorations for your room and we sang "Happy Birthday" (through tears).  

Three years ago I felt like that birthday, your 12th, might be your last one. It had been a rough few months and you were struggling; I worried. We had a big party where friends and neighbors came by. I wanted to do it again for your 13th, but there we were, in the hospital trying to nurse you back to health. 

June 2022

Last year, this year... You're not here.

Your birthday is in 12 days. 15 years old. As I think about it, sitting here on the patio, I smile even through the tears. You are an amazing soul, my son. I cannot understand what I did to deserve having you teach me. 

Right now, the crickets are chirping, a bee is buzzing somewhere close by, and the hummingbirds come to sip at their feeder. The dogs are lying on the grass and the sky is blue. I see your butterflies, your flowers, the raspberries growing and I am grateful for the peace, the chance to sit and think about you. 

I miss you, Aaron. I miss you so much.

I'll look for you in rainbows. And everywhere.

Love,
Mama

“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

- A. A. Milne