The walk has been on my mind since Friday night….preparation, execution and reflection. I’ve been drafting my blog post in my head for the past 48 hours, waiting for the chance to sit down and write it all out. Yet here I am, writing about something other than the walk.
I took Jaden to his first Healing Hearts meeting. (Healing Hearts is a grief support group in the area for families.). I didn’t sign up for the class yet, but wondering if I should. I wanted Doug to take it with me, but I’m thinking that is not going to happen. Perhaps next week.
As we gathered into the common room, Jaden was so excited. Who are his teachers? Who are his friends? I sat there, misty eyed that he had to go through this. I cried because he had a reason to come. He has the same thing in common as the others in the room, he’s lost someone he loves.
I felt foolish for crying, yet I have wanted so badly to cry since the walk. Tears just come! They are in there, waiting …. My eyes teared up in church yesterday too. As pastor spoke before communion, I remembered communion at Owen’s funeral. I pictured his little body, in his little casket on the big alter. I pictured the white paul draped over him like a blanket. Doug laid him on the alter as a sacrifice to God. The slain lamb. The gift I didn’t want to give, but had to.
So I sit here at a nearby restaurant, blogging while Jaden meets other kids like him. At the NICU reunion yesterday he came back from the face painting booth with an angel painted on his hand. It was for Owen. All on his own he is finding ways of remembering his brother. I admire my son. Jaden you amaze me.