Time moves too fast, but I feel like I'm slogging through molasses. Tomorrow Daddy and I will do hand molds and dress you one last time. This is by far the longest I've ever gone without seeing you, and there are only a couple more opportunities. I can't even wrap my head around that. I'm not ready to close that casket. I don't want this weekend to come.
The fact that you're gone really isn't ever far from my mind, but the muscle memory is something else. It got a bit busy right at dinner time and I went towards my bedroom to quickly do something and then as I was heading back to the kitchen, I started to veer to the left to check on you. It wasn't even a conscious thought, until I realized what I was doing. I find myself noticing the clock at 1 and 7 pm, right when you needed several meds and treatments, and my body starts to shift towards your room.
Oh my baby, my heart hurts so bad. I know you're happy, you're free, you can run and play. There are no needles, no weak limbs, no low muscle tone to prevent you from talking, singing. You're perfect now.
But you were pretty awesome the way you were before.
It's a freedom I occasionally thought about, but knowing what it would take to achieve it, never wanted.
You were ready. Even as I go through your pictures to prepare your slideshow, I can see it. It's in your eyes, and in your smile. Oh, your smile is still there, but it's tired, weary. And now you're free. Fly high, my little one. Mama loves you more than you can ever know.
Those routines make letting go much more difficult. You were such a dedicated caregiver Rebekah, that I can only imagine how difficult it must be to change those habitual, tender acts of love. You remain in my prayers. Sending admiration filled hugs to you!
ReplyDeleteHe was absolutely perfect the way he was.
ReplyDeleteThat muscle memory will change in time. Your body and mind will learn this new truth we never wanted. And still, there will be occasions, even years from now, when you'll be right back in the moments we trained for, the moments we learned to be more than the mothers they needed but also the RTs and nurses and therapists. You'll see it as you care for others and something you learned for Aaron helps another.
Lorelei sings in her high school's advanced women's choir. This year, their beginning choir has two young ladies in wheelchairs. One of them has a pulse ox. During their fall concert, her pulse ox alarmed because she was moving so much in her joy. And in that moment, my heart was whole. My mind had peace. The part of me that trained for Lily's care had a fleeting moment of joy where my muscle memory knew what to do.
I think of things like that as her pixie dust. While I'm not sure Aaron would appreciate the Tinkerbell reference, I know you'll have moments like that too. Through tender mercies, you'll feel whole, feel him, feel Him. Those muscles that trained so diligently for Aaron will find that peace too.