Saturday, December 8, 2012

The Walk with Angels

April 16, 2011
Its Alumni weekend, so I haven't seen much of your poor daddy lately. He stays really busy this time of year and it all comes down to this weekend for him. Today was a beautiful day. We've been having some pretty amazing weather. Carolina blue skies, a gorgeous breeze, I am loving my walks lately with Beatrice. They are very therapeutic for me.
My walk today was absolutely miraculous. It still brings tears to my eyes as I write. I was brainstorming more ideas about the balloon launch. I still want to do it just for you, baby boy. I can invite just family and closest friends. That's all I think I want for this year. I want it to be really special. For some reason, I still have that lingering nudge to make it public.
It was very breezy on my walk, but it certainly didn't hinder Miss Bea. As we were walking the breeze caught a flower blossom and it rolled and skipped and tossled right beside us for a long time. I immediately thought of you! Are you taking a walk with us, Charles Patrick?
One thing I've always dreamed about is walking my babies in the neighborhood. We live in the perfect place for walks and I've always looked forward to that day. And here you are walking with your momma!
I got so tickled at this little flower blossom. It kept up with my every step. Soon the petal came to a rest and I actually got a little sad. As soon as it did, a little leaf picked up in its place. Hey baby! So we walked some more. Mind you, I never had to lose my stride, you kept right up with me. As soon as the leaf came to a rest, a little stick picked up in its place and rolled and toddled along the sidewalk with us. As the stick came to a rest, nothing picked up in its place. So I stopped walking.
Charles Patrick, are you gone? Come back and walk with mommy. I turned around and faced the wind and that's when I saw them. There were hundreds of leaves and sticks and pebbles and blossoms following me on my walk.
It wasn't just a walk with my son, it was a walk with the hundreds of children and babies in Heaven. It was your testimony to me that you are not the only baby in Heaven. I knew at that moment that my balloon launch needed to honor more than just you, baby boy. It was time to swallow my fears and create a public event. I imagined all those little angelic faces saying, "Please invite my mommy and daddy! I want a love note too!"
I promise you with all my heart that this truly happened. I didn't make any part up. The veil is very thin. I love the relationship I still have with you, sweetheart. You are not gone.

Idea Day

April 5, 2011
Today I call my Idea Day! I have fallen in love with Carly's blog. She is the sweet young lady who does the "Names in the Sand" sunset pictures. She also created a day called International Bereaved Mother's Day. It is the first Sunday each May, so this year it will be on May 1st. On her blog, she encourages others to hold events, even if it is just you and a few friends.
On my walk today with Beatrice, I thought of all the love notes my sweet baby has sent me: the shooting star on our way home from the hospital, the sun coming out from behind the clouds choosing his burial plot, the ladybug on the seashell, and the apple. That's when it hit me: let's send some love notes back!
A balloon launch. We'll write notes to Charles Patrick, roll them up and stick them in the balloons, fill them with helium, and send them to Heaven.
I thought about opening this up to everyone and creating an event on Facebook, but that made my heart flutter. I don't think I'm ready to do something so public yet. I'm still struggling with so much anxiety. I know a lot of people who have lost children who would love to send their babies notes too, but again, I think I'm too scared to create an open event. I don't know. Maybe. Something in my heart says, maybe. Is that you, baby boy? I don't know if I can do it. I'm just not strong enough yet. Maybe next year. But for now, I love brainstorming all these beautiful ideas!

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Kisses from Heaven

April 1, 2011
Its our final Friday before Spring Break, so the kids at school were a little wild and crazy. I guess I can't blame them, I'm ready for a break too!! But regardless, it makes a hard day for this teacher. So it wasn't the "greatest" day, yet it wasn't horrible. I was especially missing my little man.... you!
Our afternoon was all out of whack because of Awards Day, so we were just sitting around waiting to be called to the gym for the program. Suddenly, one of my sweetest teacher friends ran into my room and she holds up an apple.

I gasp.
I look at her with my mouth wide open. Inside my head I said, "Its my son!" For some reason, I didn't say it out loud. I was afraid she would think I was crazy. But when I looked back at her and we both had tears in our eyes, I didn't have to say it out loud. We knew it was you, baby boy. I see your sweet messages. This one came loud and clear. 
At our school, we receive a Fresh Fruit and Vegetable grant that gives our sweet students fresh fruit and veggie snacks every day. This apple somehow made it to Mommy's school. This apple made it to Mommy's classroom. Who else would have been so meticulous to get an apple to a teacher? My baby boy, that's who! I am amazed at your miracles. Thank you for reminding me that you are always right here!


March 27, 2011
You know sometimes it would be nice to have pleasant dreams of you. I love the idea of Carly's site. I love her dream that she had and what has come about from her dream. I believe Christian inspired her to do this great thing for all us grieving mommas.
My dreams are different though. I wish so badly that I could have such sweet and pleasant dreams. I guess I have an advantage that I feel so close to you in my day dreams. But I've been cursed with terrible night dreams of you.
I can't write about them. They are difficult to think upon, but I don't dream of you alive if that gives any inclination of what my dreams are like. I guess that's my biggest problem. I have a horrible aversion to the word "dead." I don't want to say it or even think it. I hate that word. You are not dead, you just simply are not alive. My baby was not born dead, you were born sleeping. The word dead just needs to be taken out of existence, don't you think, Bubby? I can't even say the word dead when I'm referring to flowers. This whole grieving process is weird, sweetheart. I sure do miss you.
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