In September my best friend got tickets to see Wanda Sykes and she is so funny! I can't tell you the last time I laughed like that, I mean I laughed so hard my checks hurt, my stomache was aching and my eyes filled with tears (the good kind), but in the back of my mind I kept saying hurry up, I need to be home.
Then in October my husband got an invite to a dinner party with an old friend of his, whom I had never met. I put my best foot forward as we walked into this house full of strangers, and for those of you who know me - I am very quiet and shy. I sat at the table with everyone and smiled, and listened and checking my watch again just wanting to go home and be with Kaleb.
As I pondered through all of this I realized that in the eight months following Kaleb's diagnosis I have become so consumed with fear and sorrow - that I have already forgotten how to live. I am lost. When people come to the house I smile and look like I've got it all together but when I'm alone, I'm broken, I feel lost. I never dreamed, first of all that I would even have Kaleb some thirteen, almost fourteen years after Christopher - but I never imagined that God would grant me another beautiful child and then have me watch him slowly, but too quickly, slip away.
I "borrowed" this quote from another parents website who is going through this same situation:
I'll lend you, for a little while, a child of mine," He said,
For you to love while he lives, and mourn when he is dead.
It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two, or three,
But will you, until I call him back, take care of him for me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you, and shall his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay, as all from Earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world wide over in my search for teachers true,
And for the throngs that crowd life's lanes, I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love and not think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call to take him back again?
I fancied that I heard them say, "Dear Lord, thy will be done",
For all the joy this child shall bring, the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shower him with tenderness and love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known, forever grateful stay.
And should the angels call for him much sooner than we planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand.