Our red robin

We're back from San Francisco...it was a good idea to go but it was weird at the same time.  There were only four of us - that just felt wrong.  Our first night at dinner brought that home...no waiting for a table for 5 cuz we were a party of 4.  Easier to get a table but not worth missing Ian.

We talked a lot about things that Ian would have liked.....this museum or that restaurant and a lot of it came from Alex & Amy, which was heartwarming.

Eric & I saw a red robin our first night in SF near the Moscone Center.  To understand why this is significant, you need to understand the importance of red robins to us.  We'd never seen a red robin until our cross-country trip with the kids back in 2002 after Alex had finished his chemo.  We had just picked up our 30 foot RV outside Boston and were camping in a KOA nearby before starting back across the country towards home.  This was the spot that Ian learned to speak squirrel.  There were lots of squirrels in our campsite and Ian (who was 9 at the time) was following them around when he jumped on a stump and started making chirping, squeaky noises.  We asked him what he was doing and he informed us he was "talking squirrel".....one of Ian's more famous 'Ianisms'.  From that point on, we saw a red robin at various parts of the country.  There was even a red robin in our yard when we got home.....we'd never seen one at our house before that.  From then on, that became our red robin, our sign from God that He was looking over us.

For the next 12 years, off and on, we would see a red robin; often when things were looking gloomy or we needed to remember that God was personal and watching over us.  That red robin became our families own personal rainbow.  I saw a red robin the day after Ian died hopping around in our back yard.  Then we saw one again in the park near the Moscone Center in San Francisco.....Ian was never far from our thoughts in San Francisco.

After a full day on Thursday & Friday, I woke up Saturday morning and realized I hadn't cried once the day before.....I can't remember the last time that happened.

I've been reading a book called 'Jesus Calling' that gives you a daily mini-devotional.  The author talks about spending more time listening to God, not just us talking to Him, but us listening to Him.  This kind of fits in with some thoughts I've been having about prayer lately.  Intellectually, I understand the need for prayer but I've begun to ponder the purpose of asking for things in prayer.  It doesn't matter what I ask for; God will do what God is going to do and if what I'm asking for isn't a part of His plan, then what is the purpose of asking for something?  There were hundreds of people all over the world praying for healing for Ian but it didn't change the outcome....he still died.  So what is the true purpose of prayer?  It can't just be me asking for things.  I think thankfulness must be a part of my communication with God and I need to learn to be more of a listener than a talker, so I've been trying to listen more which is incredibly hard for me.  I have never liked silence, I've always enjoyed noise; I turn the TV on just for background noise!  So, in my elementary attempts to listen more I seem to hear God answering my questions of why?  Why take Ian?  Why give him the gifts of intelligence, humor, wit, and artistry only to take cut those gifts short and end his life at 19?  Some answers I may never get, but I seem to hear God telling me that it was necessary to take Ian in order to save him.  That the road Ian was on would only have led him to an irretrievable hardened heart and perhaps destruction and heartache for himself and those who loved him.  I don't know.....I'm not good at this listening stuff yet....we'll have to see.

Eric & I went out to the cemetery again today.  I thought Ian's flowers would be dead by now and I wanted to get rid of the dead ones and put fresh flowers on his grave.  I want others to know that there are people who love and care for Ian.  Eric wondered if I would go to the cemetery every weekend.....I couldn't give him an answer because I don't know myself.  I realized that I see my visiting his grave as an extension of taking care of him.  I can't physically care for him anymore, but I can care for his grave and show anybody who may visit that cemetery that Ian continues to be thought of and loved.  I cared for him for 19 years and Eric understands it's hard to stop doing that cold-turkey.

While I was there today, I got the sense that Ian was at peace.  That he knew that his life had to end when it did for his own good; that he is okay and understands why things happened the way they did.  Maybe one day I'll be able to join him in understanding why.