This might be the latest in the day that I've ever written my annual post on Cole's heavenly birthday. I did pull out the computer this morning and sat and pondered what to write. My heart wasn't focused, my thoughts were all over the place and I decide to spend time just remembering that day 16 years ago, the day that changed everything. I decided to go back and look at a post I made a number of years ago when I used this time of year to share my story, my testimony, It's here at this link if you want to read it. Part of me was afraid that I was forgetting and that's why I needed to read it. Yet as soon as I started to read it I realized that almost everything I read there I had said last night when I was doing the live final draw for our annual fundraiser. The details are so vivid, so etched in my brain and on my heart.
And it was in that moment that I knew that I wasn't going back to read this post because I was afraid I was forgetting but because my heart will always yearn to remember even the most difficult and painful moments. It's part of loving those who've made the greatest impact on our lives and in our hearts. Remembering hurts and yet it fills me with joy at the same time. It makes me realize how deeply we love and cherish the times with have and reminds me that we can't take that time for granted. It also reminds me of the journey I needed to take to get through the darkness of those days, weeks and months and how God helped me find light again. Remembering is such a gift.
This little angel was also a reminder this year.
This angel has hung on our tree since Christmas of 2009. Every year I carefully place a collection of what has become known as 'Cole' ornaments on our tree. It's a loving and yet emotional part of putting up our tree each year. This year it was this one that got me. On the bottom it says 'In Memory of Cole Dec.13/08 on our first Christmas without you.' While technically Christmas of 2008 was our first without him, that Christmas was blur of emotions and stress and while his heart was not beating, he was still with us...inside of me with Cam. The next Christmas the emptiness I felt without the completed vision of matching babies under the tree was overwhelming at times. And so was the emotion I felt hanging this little one on the tree. Cameron was the first to notice and came to give me a hug, I remember saying to him "Sometimes it feels like this wasn't real, like it had to have happened to someone else".
And maybe that's it. Maybe that's why I need to go back and remember, why I need to remember every detail of that day and cry the big tears because it did happen to me, to us and it and Cole are very much a part of our story, of who we are today.
Last night I talked about how different this year has felt as I have been very busy with health issues with my father-in-law, working and tutoring a lot and then adding a nasty cold to this crazy time of year. It made my grief take a bit of a back burner and I made the comment that I felt like I was moving past my grief at times and then went in a sort self realization that it wasn't that I was moving past it but that I was moving with it and taking it to a place that makes it more and more productive. The more the years go on, the more I can see a place for grief. That place is in helping others, in fundraising, in making good come from this heartbreaking day. It makes a whole lot more sense when I can see good come from it.
It still hurts and I still miss you like crazy Cole. I wonder often who you'd be today but then I think about that and I already know the answer. You would be the light in our darkness, the cheerleader for all who need encouragement. You would help where help is needed. And you'd love deeply and fiercely. Just like your twin. Just like your older brothers. Just like your parents. Your impact is felt deeply in this world you never walked in and you've inspired me to be my greatest self. I love you to the moon and back sweet son of mine.
Happy heavenly birthday sweet boy.
