How Do You Explain...

Several months ago while making dinner and Ethan sitting joyfully at our kitchen island coloring to his little heart's content he turned to me and said, "hey mommy?"

"Yes Muppet?" I replied without even thinking of might come from his mouth neither less his head.

"Can I have a brother? I want a brother." bounced quickly from his mouth and a second later I dropped whatever it was that I had in my hand. My mind raced with "how in hell am I suppose to answer this" and "how do I explain to a child who is barely three that his chances for a little brother or sister were slim and none."

Don't get me wrong, one of the things that I hold in my heart and hope for is to have more children of my own. However, several factors are not on my side. Age being one of them. So to be honest I recently let the hold I had on that hope loosen after a talk with my own mum. It was hard to let go of this hope because it meant that the life that I had always planed and dreamed of wasn't the plan that God, The Universe (whatever it is you believe in) had in store for me. And that was heart breaking. It made me wish that I could go back in time and remember what it was like to feel Ethan move around in belly, to remember that joy that came with knowing that I was carrying around a wonderful little gift.

But that's life; you can't go backwards, and sometimes my memories seem so far away from me that it's hard to pull them forward in my mind to swim around and revel in. So I sat there thinking about all of this, I was brought back to reality with a simple, "Mommy can we go to the store and get a brother?"

"Huh? What?" If only it was that easy to run to the local Target, Walmart or Kroger and go to the sibling aisle and just pick one off the shelf. I tried my best that night to explain that life wasn't that easy and not everything we want comes from Costco or the store.

I stared into those big brown eyes of my muppet and tried to see if I was getting my point across and what I saw were tears that filled up both our eyes. Ethan's understanding that he can't have a brother or sister and mine in aspect that the one part of my life that I had always hoped for from when I was young would become the one dream I will never get to have. The thoughts that there are people in the world that with the drop of a hat are blessed with 3, 4 sometimes even more children and those small lives where never in their plans and dreams and yet they had them.

I tried to explain that there are people in our lives who are not family by relations, but over time become our family due to the relationship we have with them. But to have someone so small understand this was something that I should have known he wouldn't understand. It broke my heart as if a spade was thrust into my heart and tip broken off. Later that night I cried and prayed that Ethan be given the understanding of everything I had explained to him.

Those prayers have not yet been answered and Ethan's question for a sibling came to me daily for almost a month after that. Then he went down to once a week and up until two weeks ago he hadn't brought it up for almost two months. Then while driving in the car I got the, "Hey Mommy?..."

And on the way to school this morning he explained to me in great detail how this friend had a brother and then there was this other friend of his that has a brother; so "mommy, you just not looking in the right place." I felt as if someone reached in, grabbed my heart and while pulling it out; yanked a little bit of my soul out with it. The idea of explaining to someone so tiny that his wish that he dreams about might not come true and he just has to understand that the life we were given doesn't even start out in his favor is gut wrenching.

I have to say I'm getting better about explaining it. But it just doesn't make it any easier....

My Perception of Me, Myself & I

Shortly after I turned 29 one of the most wonderful things happened to me; Ethan was brought into this world. I remember even after twelve hours of labor and two hours of pushing; I sat in my hospital room thinking this was the one of the most euphoric moments in my life (and no it wasn’t from the drugs the hospital gave me). While holding something so tiny I pondered how great this life was that I was living. I had a loving and wonderful husband that with just the way he looked at me was enough to melt my heart, then there was this little boy that made me feel as though I glowed from the inside out, and all I could think about was – if this is what it’s like to be 29, how great will my 30’s be.

I guess maybe I opened my mouth (or mind I should say) too soon or proved that was some validity behind the statement “watch what you (don’t) wish for” than one would have thought. Shortly before my 30’th birthday, I was greeted with the words, “It’s cancer.” Then spent my birthday caring for a strong man who could barely get around the house because he just had 8” of his insides removed. I honestly spent the week of my birthday wishing that this was all a dream and I would wake up to find that the world had gone back to the techno-color dreaminess I was used to. But it didn’t.

On my 31^st birthday Christopher and I traveled back from Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Tulsa with word that his doctors were doing everything they could and we left there feeling good about everything. I remember vividly sitting outside of doctor’s offices waiting for Christopher to get his tests. This little white computer in my lap and my fingers feverishly typing away everything that we knew on the blog for our friends and family back home who were constantly clicking “refresh” in the hopes that this trip might lead us to something that just might be a breakthrough. It was just a few months after that that I got the phone call that changed everything and the realization that I would became a widow and that I had barely lived three decades.

My first birthday with Christopher gone, I turned the same age that he was when we found out he had cancer. To say that my mind raced as I tried to put myself in his shoes; how I could handle news like that? And well lets just say that a new found respect was found in the deepest inner most parts of my soul for Christopher and the brave face he put on daily.

This year (Tuesday to be exact), if you do the math, I will turn the same age that Christopher was when he passed away. To say that I have spent allot of time thinking about allot of different things would be an oversimplification of what has really been bouncing around in that head of mine. To be honest, I don’t think there has been a time when I have allowed my mind to rest long enough to even fully get to REM sleep. I have thought long and hard about whom I am, what I want in life, what this life wants from me and how can I do all of it while keeping a smile on face.

In this process of trying to mentally work out everything in my head that has rolled around in there for the last three years I have come to understand and contemplate the statement of “Me, Myself & I”. Some might say this is a very narcissistic thing to say, but let me explain how I came to this statement or at the very least my perception of this statement.

Lets start with “Me”. I define “me” as the “d” before word of the cancer. The happy-go-lucky woman who saw all beauty in this world through the rose colored glasses of pure bliss. The woman who thought that all situations turn out for the better; even if it didn’t go the way I expected them to go. I was the person who would spend hours listening to her friends’ problems and issues and just hoped and prayed that I could give them advice that found them comfort. I was overly self confident in everything that I did. The world was my oyster and no one could take it away.

Then came the word of cancer and so did the next phase of who I became; “Myself”. Why do I call it this? Well for almost the opposite reason one would think. Most people would think that with news like your loved one has cancer they would turn to themselves on the inside and start to debate what does this mean for them, their family. Me on the other hand; well I was a little different. I started to think about how could I make life easier on Christopher, what could I do for Ethan to help him understand why his dad had tubes running into him every two weeks. Myself was the last person I thought of. I let myself go because I put the needs of others in my family above completely myself. I never really did my hair, make-up in the morning was always a last minute thing and the only reason I put it on was for work and even then it was haphazard.

One of my most profound thoughts when I found out Christopher was going to die was, “What do I do now?” I spent the last 18 months taking care of everything and if I didn’t have Christopher to take care of; then, well, what do I do? When there is no one to call in the mornings to make sure they are awake and out the door for work or doctor appointments, or to make sure that meds where taken in the right order and times, what do I do with those random minutes in the day? Where do I focus that energy?

That’s when I started to discover, “I”; the phase life that I am in now. It’s the balance of everything that fell between “me” and “myself”. It’s the “d” that is starting to feel like life is her oyster again and yet I am still focused on taking care of a little man that was brought into my life almost four years ago. I try to spend an hour, at the least, a week to try and read up on new cancer treatments. I follow what the government passes and not passes in the fight against cancer with insurance companies. I plan all Ethan’s meals with the mindset that I am being proactive in his diet (being that there is a link to colon cancer and a diet high in fat). But most of all, I’m also doing things for me that make me happy.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are times during this transition that I would think I have all this sorted out in my mind’s little cubbies and my feet completely planted firmly in how I feel about everything this life has brought to me and Ethan. Then there is always something that seems to shove with the greatest of force to knock me off balance. But I have always found a way to pick myself up off the ground, dust off my soul, raise an eyebrow and get a little tougher skin against the happenstance of life’s occurrences.

The way I look at life and the hopes and dreams that I hold in my heart is what makes the rain fall a little lighter upon my head. The words and feelings that are expressed here sometimes change the way people look at the world and that warms my heart that the loss of a great man wasn’t in vein. This world that I entered into on an October morning is and will always be new to me no matter how much time has passed, I will always feel as though there is a long way to go and sometimes I might even feel as though everything is just a false start.

There will be times that I feel that everything is over my head, but I will do more than my best not to show the world that those moments seem to over take what it means to be me. I was meant for this path, journey, for something – it has a reason and I just have to let this path lead me. I will always try to go where life takes me even when there are days that I want to stand in my tracks and run in the opposing direction with all the speed that my legs will take me.

Yes even now after all this time, there will still be days that are lonely, crazy, sad and filled with anxiety, but this is all just a matter of my perception. My grief is emblematic of the deep love that I hold in my heart not only for a great man but the path that it has taken to get here. As long as I am real and true to my self, love will always fill my heart no matter who is and isn’t in my life because in the end I know that this three year path of self-discovery has lead me to become a better person, a better friend, and has put me on a path that I fully embrace. I am truly blessed to know, understand and accept everything there is to know about “Me, Myself & I”.

My First Question Answered

I'm happy to say I got my first question and like I said in the post before all questions will be answered with honesty and no sugar-coating. So here we go...

Question:

Why do you want to keep writing about Christopher... I know he's inseparable part of you but isn't it the time to let him go... Doesn't he stop you from looking forward to much more that is there to life?

Answer:

To be honest I'm really happy this was my first question for several reasons, one being that this is a topic that crosses my mind daily and there really isn't an empty part of my thoughts that I don't ponder, "will I ever stop writing about Christopher?"

I knew there would be some non-magical time when the posts that talked about Christopher would become less and less and would be replaced with tales about the strides in mine and Ethan's life. I figured my posts would slowly change to be about the trails and tribulations of single parenthood. Maybe one day I might even write about, dare I say, how it feels to possibly love someone else? Or at the very least my own mental struggles of trying to love someone else and the struggles of trying to fit everyone in my heart equally.

The day I started writing again after Christopher passed away I thought I would only write for a month or two. I figured people would get bored of a 30 something woman who rambles on about the loss of her husband. Then one day my grief therapist asked me if I had ever journaled? I think I let out a little sigh and said, "I have this blog. Sorta. Not really." In my mind I had already shut down the blog; no more post ever to be written (unless some family member contacted me to see how Ethan and I were doing). Then my therapist suggested that I keep writing, not for my family, but for myself and most of all Ethan. In a way to channel all my thoughts and feelings to paper so that one day I could share them with Ethan.

One of the topics that runs rampant through my mind (and soul) is how do I balance Christopher in Ethan's life. Ethan knows that Christopher is gone, he's not shy about telling people all the time that "his daddy is in heaven" or "with the flowers". He visually knows Christopher by photos as well; often times walking up to photos in the house, pointing with vigor and declaring that "this is daddy and that is mommy". But to be honest with myself, this is all he will ever remember of Christopher. I can hope and pray till the prayer beads have nothing left to them that Ethan will remember more than just two second visual snip-its of his dad's life; but I would almost be praying for a lost cause knowing that Ethan was just a hair over two when Christopher left this mortal plain.

So I have had to make some rather tough choices over these past 20 months; ones that keep my mind restless in thought almost 24/7. When do I talk about Christopher, how do I talk about him with Ethan and what is ok to share and not share and when should this sharing happen? One of the things that was very clear to me from the beginning was that Ethan and I would be on opposing ends of the grief scale slowly moving towards each other and at some point (later in life), our paths in this journey would cross. There would come a time in Ethan's life when he doesn't understand why his dad is gone. This would be crossed with a time and place where I would have dealt with my own grief and could take all the time this world had to offer us to go through all of Ethan's questions, un-understandings and fears and work through them one by one. I could be the strong parent Ethan would need during this time and more importantly I would be in a place to sympathize with his emotions clearly, yet calmly all the while showing him the love and support he would need to work through what it was he was feeling.

So I tried, the best I could, to document my feelings and my own mental revelations if you will for him to read one day. All at his own pace and when he was ready. But I also wanted an underlining theme to what he read; I wanted him to see that his dad is with us all the time. My hopes were that these random posts would be read and Ethan would gain the hidden meaning that Christopher's memory is carried around in our hearts, the glimmer of our eyes and never really forgotten. I've always wanted Ethan to know not only who his dad was through photos but who was as a man, husband and father in my own words as the woman who was touched by his gentle nature, his caring heart and loving support. I wanted Ethan to understand what a great man his dad was and how he wanted the world for the both of us and yet even though he's not with us physically; he still betters our lives through how he effects our heart. To learn how to take that fire that always resided in Christopher's heart to better himself and learn how to harness it so that we can continuously challenge ourselves to reach out to those around us and to become better people for those around us who need it more.

So in a nut shell after all of that, I continue to write about Christopher for Ethan. I write so that one day when he starts to question everything around him (which I'm sure he will) I can show him that he's wasn't the only one that went through the questions, doubts and fears, but that I had the memory of a great man to fall back on when I felt really lost.

Will this cause me to struggle as I try to move forward in life? Yes it will; I won't lie. I'm pretty sure of it. I know that I will have a tight wire act to practice where I try find a balance in trying to keep Christopher's memory alive for Ethan and yet be able to focus on any new possible relationships that might come my way. I know that all relationships are different and while I might find someone that shares the same spirit for life that Christopher did; this person will be different and learning to accept those differences is one that I try to mentally prepare myself for. But then again, that's the beauty of this life, as people we continue to grow and learn more about ourselves and that inspires me to continue to try and move forward.

To My Blog Reader Who Lost His Brother

Today while answering my first blog question I got a comment post from a blog reader who lost his brother on this very day to suicide. While reading it my heart went out him. The guilt that he held in his heart and yet the feeling of "what if" that ran through his post was such that I needed to reach out to him. So I have put answering my first question on hold for this post; for my reader.

My dear friend,

I wish I could say that your situation isn't one that I have been through; and honestly I personally haven't, but Christopher had and with that I saw what he went through. Christopher lost two cousins to suicide only just a few years apart from one another. I remember each day when he got the call and how he just sat there staring off into space while he tried to wrap his head around the news he had just heard. He was in shock and you could see that proverbial train of thought run off it's tracks as the tears flowed down his face.

I remember one day I asked him if he was ok and in good ole Christopher fashion he took every volatile emotion that he was feeling that might bring his happy world down - wrapped it up as tight as he could and swallowed it whole. What followed that was a straight faced look and then he would tell me he was "ok." But I knew better and I knew that was his way of saying he needed more time and space to completely understand what had just happened.

You are going to go through bouts of "what ifs and yeah that's it".

"What if I had just called more? Yeah, had I called more - things would be different."

"What if I had just reach out during those years? Yeah, had I just took his hand and guided him a little more this wouldn't have happened."

"What if I had just sat my dad and my brother down and did some sort of personal family intervention? Yeah, had I done that-we would all be in a very different place."

But you can't keep your self in that frame of mind. Grief is a process and one where all steps need to be taken. There will be steps that you seem to fly through and yet fall on frequently and that's ok. For me it was anger. I would go through denial and then get angry that I allowed my self to go there. I would have fits of sadness only to get angry with myself for being sad that Christopher was in a place of light and love and no longer pain. Then came acceptance; followed by the anger of how could I accept such a tragic point in my life. But the important part was I went through all the steps. You're feelings right now are, for the most part, a state of shock. The idea that time will move on and your brother won't be there to share them would be a shock to any one's system.

But you are right, you have a wife and children and they will be there for you. They will be there to show you how to break the sun into a million little pieces so that you can see the light in the darkness of this forest of grief. Don't be surprised if your dad goes through his own grief in a different way. Grief brings out guilt in people that they never thought they had. And please remember this my dear friend, your dad might go through this. He might see the error of ways he never thought at the time were wrong and maybe he just might turn to you for acceptance in his sorrow and maybe this turn takes years for him to get to. This is where his healing will begin and you must try to be there for him no matter how much time might pass between the two of you. You might have to help him go through the process of his own understanding that yes, while actions of the past might have been a contributing factor and might not, but it is important that he can look back and forgive himself for anything he might hold in his heart that would keep it from healing.

Parents are hard on their kids and some parents aren't hard enough. That's how it is when we become parents. Just remember that your dad never loved your brother any different or less; he just maybe didn't know how to always show it. Everything in life can be a lesson and one that we can debate over and over or one that changes us profoundly. Sometimes during our grief we come to the most profound reasoning and understandings. I'm sure you will encounter the same thing; it will all be when time and your mind rest long enough to allow you ponder these thoughts.

I won't lie my dear reader; this is going to be a rough and rocky path. One that only with time will the wound on your heart start to heal and it may take months and years to fully heal. There maybe times when you think you have complete control of your life and the emotions that you hold on the inside, then something as simple as someone telling you "hi" or hearing a song on the radio will break you down into tiny little bits of broken glass and trying to put your self back together will hurt as you will find those little nicks take longer to heal; but they will.

The cruel and yet beautiful thing about all of this is life still moves forward. Your kids will continue to grow and you need to use that give you the strength you need to moved forward and find that peace that surpasses all understanding.

I don't know if these words will find you any comfort. But I am glad you reached out to me. My suggestion for the next few months; focus on the day and if you can't; focus on the minute or a second. You can make it through this. It is important to cry and often. When you kids ask, tell them that "Daddy is just sad, but it's ok to be sad." Crying is our body's way of expelling stress and I'm sure your have your boat full of it at the moment. My last suggestion would be to find a group of people that have shared the same experience. And if going to a group talking to a bunch of strangers isn't your cup of tea (heck it wasn't mine for my own reasons) - then I would suggest a personal grief therapist. If that isn't really an option, then I would suggest getting a journal - write in it everything that you feel; even if it's "why, why, why" over and over from cover to cover.

My friend, if you need anything please feel free to comment in the comment section of my blog. I will keep them private and not post them; sometimes it's good just to know that someone is there listening. I pray that God, the universe (whatever it is that you faith brings you to) gives you the wisdom of understanding and the strength to make it through this.

Pax,

-d

PS - And to my reader whom this post is for (and any other readers) I've started a twitter feed for this blog. Please feel free to follow (ThenThereWasTwo) and you can ask me questions or even reach out for support.

Opening up to Questions

I'm in the mist of two rather long blog post right now that I'm hoping to get up very soon. However, like most of my post, as I write them the thought or my own self-revelation (as you will) changes slightly. Then I end up having to sit back and think even more about what it is that I'm writing about and how it makes me feel. It's a process and one that I don't take too lightly. Everything in this life is a lesson to me right now and I want to make sure I take it in for what and everything it means to me.

Knowing that it might be a few days before I will finish them, I wanted to turn this blog around a little. Those of you who read and comment - it warms my heart. It means the world to me that how Ethan and I travel through this journey touches people in a way that keeps the spirit of Christopher alive and moving forward. So I'm going to try something different. I'm opening this blog up to questions. Feel free to ask me about how I handled the news of Christopher's cancer, ask me if it's ok to be pissed at the world and everything that it holds, ask me what it is that I want in life, ask me for my thoughts on situations from anything: single motherhood, being a cancer care giver, how I handle raising a child who lost a parent, anything goes.

I want to be there for the people who read this blog as much as your comments have been there for me when I needed them. I will try to answer all questions that come and with as much honesty that I can. I won't hold back and sugar coating won't happen, but what will happen is you will know that your not alone. That there is someone else out there who went or is going through the same thing. And maybe through all of that, together we can help find what makes us all live strong.

Friday

On Friday, May 21st I would have celebrated a 3 year fight with cancer for Christopher; however, as we all know, that's not the case. I still remember that day and the call from the nurse at the doctor's office asking both of us to come in. And when I tried to blow her off she got very quite and told me, "Ms Seibert. He's. Very very sick. You need to be here."

The second I heard those words I knew. I knew in the pit of my gut what they found. It didn't matter his age, or how hard he had been working out and trying to be healthy. I knew it was cancer and I knew in the back of my mind what that all meant for our little family.

May 21st will be etched in my mind for the rest of my life. Why? It was honestly the day that changed everything. And the start of the day that changed me in a way. (But that's for another post that will be up soon.) Friday marks a time in my life when I didn't think life itself could get worse and yet I found that it could.

But it is also a day that I hold in my heart for one of the most important reasons - it was the day Christopher looked me in the eye and told me that he would fight. He would fight this cancer tooth and nail - not for himself but for Ethan, me and our family. It was a day he wasn't afraid of, but used it to give him strength. So I use this day in the same light. To give me the light and strength I need; to hold my head up high and let Christopher know that I use his strength everyday. His courage hourly. And his tenacity by the minute.

I ask you all out there who read this blog, use this day to find strength and courage in something that you feel might bring you down. Yes, life is rough and sometimes a witch; but we can all change that through our own perception of what is rough. Often times the rain in our lives just might stop if all we did was change our point of view. Pax.

My Alpha and My Omega

I am the Godmother to a wonderful little boy who turns one today. To fully express what this tender little child means to my life would be an understatement of what my words could ever express on paper; in a way he was, is and shall always be a true blessing in my life.

I vividly remember the night his mother, my good friend Amber, called to say they were expecting child number two. I was sitting in the living room, thinking about an upcoming CT scan that Christopher was going to take. With gently closed eyes, I sat saying my nightly prayers that "this" would be the CT scan that would show that the cancer stopped growing or shrank twice as more than anyone had hoped. These were always the prayers that filled my head about a month before he would go in for a scan. Before I reached the end of my prayers of a life with no cancer and everything that would go with it - the phone rang. After our friendly exchange I knew something was different or that there was something that was preoccupying her mind, so I asked... "what's up?" Amber asked me, "well hey... if I come for another visit could you take some pictures of me...." My eyes went from being completely focused to completely glazed over. I knew the reason for the phone call and the question in less time than it took for me to breathe. "We're expecting!"

I paused, took a deep breath and told my friend that I was so happy for her. And I was. But I was also so very sad. It blanketed over me as if someone had pulled a dark cover over my eyes. When I got off the phone I quickly called Christopher with tears in my eyes and in good ole Christopher fashion he knew that something was wrong before I could even say hello. I explained about the great joy that was brought into their lives and how happy I was for them, how this must be a wonderfully exciting time for them. Christopher stopped me, "d, your upset. You're upset, because.... well... we can't have another child right now. But I promise, as soon as I'm off chemo - you, me and kiddo number two… OK."

He was right. I could feel it in my guy like some strange alien that was hatching from my belly. A green-eyed monster, if you will. Here was a couple that was living the dreams, hopes and desires that Christopher and I held tightly with both hands, white knuckles and prayed nightly for. A dream of not having to worry about cancer, the hope of more children and the desire to fill Ethan's life with a sibling. And yet we could hope and dream, but we couldn't really act on it. Only hold it in our hand like a kids list to Santa and think - if I believe in him, Santa would bring it to me right? So that's what we did. And did. And did, till I got the phone call that changed everything.

Shortly after the phone call, I called Amber and explained to my expecting friend that my husband was dying; to which her, her hubby and their almost one year old hopped a plane and flew in for a week. Their visit was a blessing. Amber helped take care of some things that mentally I could not, and Marcus her husband helped me with Christopher on our visits to the doctor and outings where Christopher wanted out of the house.

While they were here Amber told me she wanted me to be her child's Godmother. And I was so honored and yet I couldn't muster up any emotional excitement from being completely drained from trying to wrap my head around the idea that my life was changing on a level that I wasn't expecting to happen for another 50 to 60 years. Time passed, Christopher passed away and I started trying to figure out how to be a single parent.

Months went on and as I approached Christopher's first birthday that he wouldn't be here to share it with us, I started thinking about all the other things that Christopher wouldn't be here for. And like any train of thought; it picked up speed and left me emotionally crashing when I came across the thought that I would never be able to live the dream of more children with Christopher. Then came the thought that the love I held in my heart for more children or to share in Ethan's life the joy of a sibling might not ever be expressed. This derailed train often came into a halt on the cusp of the thought that if one day I found someone to love and they had children - could I love another child that wasn't mine with the same fire that I hold in my heart for Ethan? And that is where my "over thinking" took over my thoughts and I think I even came to the conclusion that I would just never open my heart up to anyone because, well… it was just easier to think that life would be easier if I didn't have to do the mental work that needed to be done to even talk about these feelings with my therapist.

Then almost two weeks later something wonderful happened; a beautiful child was brought into the world and I was his Godmother. As I looked at the photos that came to me, I felt this feeling starting to grow and expand into my soul. It was the same feeling I felt when Ethan was born. It was warm and filling; it was love. I felt a feeling I didn't think I ever could, I more than cared for a child that wasn't brought into this world my me. This little boy who lived miles away and knew nothing of me was changing my thoughts on love, life and what it meant to be who I was.

I found my mornings filled with the thoughts of two little boys. The little man that reminds me daily of his daddy, who’s laugh is so intoxicating you just have to laugh with him and for no reason other than her cares, comes to me and gives me a hug and tells me he loves me; my beautiful little muppet. Then there is a little man who's blue eyes warm my heart and who smile just makes you want to reach through his photos and hug him and you can’t help but grin when you look at him. My evenings were filled with bed time stories for my muppet and kisses good night and hearing stories about the strides my Godchild took that day and listening to the “coos” that he made.

I have often thought of these two little men in my life as my Alpha and my Omega. The first and last letters of the Greek alphabet that have been used since the fourth century to express the bounding nature of God’s divinity. The bible even refers to Christ as this in reference to the everlasting and almighty power that he holds. God, Christ, the universe (again whatever it is that you believe in) existed before anything else and will exist after all else ceases.

The place I hold in my heart for these two little boys is endless and it was created before they ever came upon this earth and I will still feel this way even after the Lord tells me it’s my time. They are the first thoughts of my day and the last. They are a part of my totality and what makes me; me. They are with my thoughts always and forever and the love I share for both of them is not defined by a bloodline but the way my heart holds them together in it. They are both my little muppets who I care and love more than anything and I would spend a thousand lifetimes trying to show them this if I had the chance.

Happy First Birthday Aidan. You taught me a valuable lesson in life – one that I would never be able to explain to you, but that one day I hope you understand through the love I hold in my heart for you how much you mean to me.