You know the saying …
“If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be.”
What a crock. Honestly I say that because I think I believe in it … which screams the fact that Owen was never really mine. He is the Lord’s … he always was and always will be.
When praying over Owen’s bed I knew if he came back it would be hard. Brain damage was almost certain and he wouldn’t have been able to live a ‘normal’ life. I asked myself so many times “What would Owen want? Would he want to come back to live a dificult life?” And what kind of mother was I to pray he come back to live in a body that might be more of a prison?
With every ounce of my being I prayed that he knew I loved him enough to let him go. As a mother I’ve only wanted my children to grow into the beings that they were meant to be. I want them to be happy in their own skin and to pursue their life goals. You want to be a ballerina? Ok … how do I help you find your way? You love science? Let’s sign you up for an awesome summer camp. I strive to embrace who they are and to bring out their best qualities.
I think back and wonder if I had been weaker would God have given me my son back? If I had begged him to send him back would he have taken mercy on me? But I didn’t. I prayed that his will would be done. I prayed that Owen knew he could do what he needed to do. I told him it would be alright if he didn’t come back. Dad (Doug) and I would be ok. We would pick up the pieces and live on – care for his brothers. I told him that I loved him enough and hoped he would come back. But I supported him if he couldn’t.
I knew better … I know he was still there. But I knew he wasn’t coming back. I didn’t want him to feel bad about leaving. I wanted him to walk up to those gates of heaven knowing that we would be ok … I didn’t want him to be scared. I wanted him to know how much I loved him … enough to let him go.
So here I am … with an empty place in my heart. A whole in my soul. But I love my kids and I know he heard me. My son died knowing just how much his mother loved him. I have to believe that … what else do I have?