Grief never seems to let you forget. Not that I would ever WANT to forget, but the pain of absence is brutal and exhausting. Overall, the waves of grief seem to be getting better for us. Fall is especially hard this year as it is a symbol of change for our family. Over the past week we have had gentle reminders of our sweet baby Gavin and the peace he has left in our lives.
Last night Jason and I were out (he asked me out on a date - romantic, I know!) when we saw a little boy in a stroller . . . with a trach and oxygen. Jason and I were glued to him as we stood in line behind his parents (who I am sure were uncomfortable with the strangers that were staring at their baby). It was such a tender mercy when the little boy grinned at us and started waving. I smiled back and I watched as the reminder settled onto Jason - I could read the lines on his face. The trach, the monitor, the oxygen tubing and tank, the suction catheter, the sounds of breaths taken through an artificial airway - it was a reminder of the way things were. It was a reminder of the unexpected truth that was to be our lives - that we had finally accepted - and now, the newly accepted life we have without Gavin here.
However, as we watched this little guy grin and wave at us we were also filled with happiness. This little boy was happy and while I am sure that "this" was not what these parents expected for their son - I could tell he was well taken of and loved. His smile and wave made my night.