Summer Storm

Our sweet baby George came into our arms and left us one year ago today. 365 days. 

365 days of empty, aching arms. Of waiting to wake up from my nightmare. The worst nightmare. Of wondering why this happened to George. And Eric. And Henry. And me. Of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of being sad and pretending not to be; of realizing that my friends know I’ve been pretending and loving them for that. Of being beyond thankful for nurse Jodi; she shared my pain and held me so close that day.  Of truly learning the value of family. Of wishing "grief" was still just a word. Of wondering if George felt pain. Of hoping to feel him move just one more time. Of making sure I remember. Everything. Of wishing my little boy peace.

Today we planted a Japanese Summer Storm Lilac tree for George. Its name, Summer Storm, aptly fits. The ivory flowers should bloom around his anniversary every year, commemorating our boy and all he taught us:  love, compassion, and respect for life.  

Rest in peace, George. Sweet peace. 

I See You In My Everyday

I see you in the peace of night

I see you in the bright sunlight.

You're in the breeze that gently blows.

You are the calm of fallen snow.

Magnificent are wings that fly.

I see you in the eagle's eye.

You're in the turquoise of the sea.

I can even see you in parts of me.

I smell you in the lilac trees.

I hear you in the bumblebees.

You are the colors of the fall.

You are the mountains soaring tall.

I feel you in the summer storm.

And in the springtime nice and warm.

You are the blossoms on the branch.

You're in the firefly's evening dance.

I remember you in all good things.

In the wondrous treasures nature brings.

Your memory will forever be.

The greatest gift you gave to me.

-Lauren Waters