Your Andrew married Zoey yesterday. They are such an amazing couple, and to see all your brothers and sisters (and brother-in-law and sisters-in-law) together, minus you and Michael warmed my heart, and tugged on my heartstrings at the same time. Andrew was barely seven when you were born; he grew up with you.
At the reception, I saw a few friends I haven't seen since before you passed. And others who are ever present in my life, holding me up.
This is our first wedding without you, and it was beautiful, and heartbreaking. I'm learning to hold both at the same time.
I didn't break down yesterday, and Friday was just too busy, but on Thursday as I went to see you, I saw evidence that others had been there, too. Two little pumpkins balanced on top of your stone, and the rocks were neatly stacked.
I'm not the only one who remembers, even though sometimes it feels like it. I'm not the only one who checks on you. Yesterday, Matthew and Kensey took some time to go see you as well. They were only in town for about 36 hours but came by your spot.
You know, 16 years ago about this time we found out you were coming to be in our family! I gave Daddy a small pumpkin and painted an American flag on the side to tell him we had a new blessing coming. You were due on the 4th, but came a few weeks earlier. Daddy still has that pumpkin.
But anyway, when I stopped by on Thursday, I got out of the car (I don't often do that) and knelt by your side, and sobbed. I miss you, and sometimes I wonder if anyone else still does. I mean, I know Daddy does. He spends a lot of time in the temple and always looks for butterflies in the paintings. But most people's lives have moved on.
I guess in some ways ours have too. I no longer aim for your bedroom to give meds. I've learned to appreciate the quiet in the house, but honestly, I never really wanted it.
The days are shorter, colder. I no longer need to pick up your butterflies and lights each week because water has been turned off and they won't mow again until April. Our second holiday season without you approaches. I don't count the first Christmas. You were here until two days before. So our third Christmas without you, but our second holiday season.
I'm singing with the choir again and we're doing two of my favorite songs, ones I specifically associate with you: "Were You There When the Angels Sang?" and "Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree." I believe you were there when the angels sang on that long ago Christmas morning. And Gramma, too, and maybe me. I hope so. Music has been such an integral part of my life. And taking shelter under Christ as the Tree of Life, as the Apple Tree, brings me much comfort. Music soothes my soul.
Tomorrow is Gramma's birthday, my first one ever without her. I know I took her for granted way too much. I couldn't imagine a world without her. Will you tell her how much I love her? How much I miss her? And happy birthday for me?
Missing you both on this fall day.
Love you, Aaron.
Love,
Mama
"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words...
And cannot remain silent."
