Just like I did before.....

Alex is sick....not a lot, just a little.  I was really proud of myself for not calling up the doc immediately.  We'll wait it out and see if his body can fight this off by itself.

As I'm getting Alex some water for his meds and Eric is getting him to bed, I think to myself, "I need to tell him to text me if he needs anything in the middle of the night" then it hit me - that's exactly what I said to Ian, every night.  One of the last 'middle of the night' texts I got from Ian was simply the word 'help'.

Now Alex is sleeping in Ian's bed (because it's bigger and better than the old one Alex had) and Alex is sleeping in Ian's old room (because it's a bigger room).  Once again, I find myself with a young man, fighting an infection, in the same room, in the same bed......waiting to see if he'll need me in the middle of the night.  And if he does, I'll come running; just like I did with Ian.

bye bye telescope

One of the things I've noticed about grieving, you have to keep saying 'good-bye' to things.  Now, it's the telescopes turn.  We had bought it when Ian was sick; Eric wanted to find something scientific that he thought Ian would enjoy that we could all do together.  We had this little rinky-dink telescope but all the 'dots' we saw looked fuzzy so one day a really nice, expensive telescope arrived at our door.  And you know what?  I didn't mind at all.  When your child is sick, when you think your child may die; you don't care about the money.  The important thing was to create memories and if that telescope would put a smile on his face, it was worth every penny.

We tried it out in the backyard a few times, it worked pretty well but Eric deemed the city 'too bright'. We must go in search of darkness and we found it.  The three of us bundled up (it was February 23rd, 2012) and loaded up the van in search of a dark place to look at the stars.  We found it on San Antonio Rd. between Highway 135 and Highway 1.  We parked along the road and Eric began to set-up the telescope.  He insisted we needed our 'night vision' to see the stars and planets properly so any form of light was forbidden.  Ian & I were okay with that until we started to hear rustling in the nearby shrubbery; loud rustling accompanied by animal-like noises.  I retreated to the van but Ian was braver than I; he wrapped up in this Indian blanket he liked, throwing it over his head and trekked over to his dad to look at the night sky.  It was a good night.  It was our last night with Ian and the telescope.

Now, some other dad is looking for a 'starter' telescope.  Maybe he'll create memories with his son or daughter like we did with Ian.  It's silly, but I want him to know the history behind this particular telescope.  I want him to know the precious memories it created.  I know it's just a 'thing' but some 'things' are linked to memories and that makes them hard to get rid of.  I also know that the memories won't go away even if the telescope does.

So, bye-bye telescope.  I hope you help some other family create wonderful memories.

Small Gifts

First, let me share something that was especially meaningful to me while we were on our trip to Europe.  We were staying in Rome with some sweet friends of ours that we have known since our babies were babies.  We wanted to try and visit as many of the places Ian had on his Rome itinerary as possible, and I think we succeeded pretty well.  One of the places he mentioned, twice, was an area of Rome called Trastevere.  It's a quaint neighborhood of Rome on the other side of the Tiber River.  One evening our friend, Angie (who is a master at driving around Rome) took us there.  We strolled around these narrow, cobble-stoned streets full of shops and bistros.  Then suddenly, we're in a piazza with a fountain in the middle, lined with restaurants and tucked away in the corner is one of the oldest churches in Rome, St Maria in Trastevere.  We went in, it was extraordinarily ornate with a LOT of gold. But that wasn't the amazing part......

The altar

St. Maria in Trastevere piazza

While we are looking around (I hate to admit that at this point in our trip I was not as enthralled by ornate, golden decorated churches as I was at the beginning of our trip - you've seen one Renaissance church, you've seen them all), I started to hear singing and it's was so beautiful.  I turn around and realize it's a group of young adults singing, what I assume, are Latin hymns A Capella.  I thought, 'how wonderful that these young adults think this is 
worthwhile and how fortunate we are to be here, at this exact moment."  Then my mind immedately goes to how much Ian would enjoy this.  Being in a place he wanted to visit,
in a place so full of history with beautiful music and it brought me to tears (I know that's not a hard place for me to go).  It was the most meaningful part of our time in Europe, at least for me.

The moon over St. Maria in Trastevere

As we leave the piazza, we see the moon over the church - it was a perfect night.....and a gift.




I have to include the picture below - as we're walking along the streets we see this group of men playing some kind of game, waving their arms, shouting at each other; being very Italian.  It was great!

 

Today, I visited the cemetery to put more flowers on Ian's grave.  A couple of weeks before we left for Europe I discovered that some small mementos  we had left there were missing.  My brother, Mike, always leaves a penny on the base of the headstone each time he visits and after Emmett died, I left his name tag there; it seemed appropriate since Emmett's ashes were there and Ian loved that darn cat so much.  But all those were gone; we assume as the workmen prepared for a graveside service next to Ian's.  I was heartbroken.

Emmett is back where he belongs,
next to the boy who loved him.

The next two times we were there,
Eric & I  searched all around the headstone for those things, but never found them.
 
Today, as I'm getting ready to leave I look down and there's Emmett's name tag (and yes, I started crying again!).

It was such a little thing (literally) but both of these 'gifts' meant so much.  I know they are reminders from God that He continues to watch over us, that He is with us in this grief.  That as I press on; reading, studying, trying to redefine my relationship with Him, he hasn't given up on me.  So I will keep listening to the Father who loves me and finding my way back to a place of peace.