Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Reminders of our Little One

Today was a good day.

Today, there were no meltdowns caused by unmanageable grief, but there were tears. These weren't the endless tears that come from the heart-wrenching, bottom-of-my-soul, "I don't want to live another second without our son"  sobbing. These tears were quiet and gentle, found somewhere between the emotions of joy and sorrow... and all I know is that they ran down my face as I smiled.

In transitioning from my old cell phone to my new one, all of my contacts, photos and videos were transferred onto our computer. When sorting through these, I ran across two videos...the only two I had ever taken with my phone and had then promptly forgotten about. Little did I know when I took them, that I would forever cherish those few moments I captured. I couldn't stop smiling as I watched my pregnant belly, at eight months, move all over the place with Aaron's punches, kicks and rolls. We don't have any other videos of Aaron...only pictures. I smiled and I cried. I had forgotten the joy, wonder and miracle of being pregnant. I had forgotten how active he was all the time. I had forgotten how he responded to our touch. I had forgotten what it felt like to know he was safe because he was part of me, I was mom and that I was providing for him. It is in these thoughts that I find sorrow; I wish I could have protected him for longer...37 weeks and 1 day wasn't nearly enough time with my little one. It is in this video that I find joy; God is reminding me that this feeling of contentment in protecting and keeping Aaron safe is what I should now feel as he is fully healed and protected from further suffering on this earth. So, in watching this handful of minutes of my very lively pregnant belly, I find myself in tears, somewhere between joy and sorrow, reliving and cherishing every second, all the while, missing my Aaron Matthew with every ounce of my being. 

Through memories such as these, God is showing me how to smile and find joy in the small things of life again...He is slowly healing my broken heart and the gaping wound that Aaron's death has left. I think about Aaron constantly and still have rough days filled with anger, questions and meltdowns. God has been graciously interrupting those miserable days with very visible and tangible reminders of Aaron...reminders that make me smile. For that, I am thankful.

 The funeral home said that they would have imprints of Aaron's feet made...I didn't honestly know what to expect. I recently went to pick them up and was handed a single, small box. I thought I would be nothing but a mess of tears as I opened it; however, I couldn't help but smile when I saw that sweet, perfect replica of his foot and felt each detail, each toenail and each wrinkle in the palm of my hand. I didn't get to hold him nearly long enough here on earth; I had forgotten how little my little one was. Now, I can remember our son and smile as I hold one of God's tiny masterpieces in my hand.

Tonight, I think God was showing off. On evenings like this, I truly enjoy the view from our house. In looking at the sunset over the beautiful Rockies, my first thought was sadness. Sadness that Aaron never saw beyond the walls of a hospital, felt the warmth of sunshine or had the opportunity to see the beauty that this world has to offer. I soon realized, however, that whatever he is looking at in heaven is so much more magnificent than anything I could ever imagine and certainly more incredible than the beauty that God creates for us here on earth. Again today, I smiled. 

"Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth."
-Colossians 3:2, NLT


  1. Oh, those precious footies! And tiny toes - Thanks for sharing on your blog. So glad today was a day for smiling. Truly, God loved Aaron so much that He chose the better way for him, although as you've said, Aaron took part of all our hearts with him when he went home. One day we'll be reunited with him and our hearts will be whole once again (as his already is!) Love you mom and little man (and Daddy, too!) mom S

  2. Oh Danielle. I'm so thankful that God is guiding you so tenderly through your grief. I'm learning again (and in a way I've never experienced before) how not tender a process grieving is ... how ungentle, how fierce. How it rips a mama's heart wide open. And they say our boys were the ones with the broken hearts.

    I like what you said about what Aaron is experiencing now being so much more -- so much better -- than the best of what earth has to offer. I mourned the same things for Ewan -- that as good as heaven must be, that he never got the sunshine on his face or the grass between his toes. I wonder what our boys experience now?

    I hope you continue to have these moments where God guides you gently and tenderly through your grief. I hope and pray that as you remember your son, you have more causes to smile and that even as you cry, you find reason to rejoice. It seems so backward sometimes.

    You are loved, sister. I wish and hope so much good for you.

  3. i love those sweet little feet! thanks for sharing... and know that we love you so much. i'm glad you smiled today. :o)

  4. Tiny, tiny little feet! I too thought of baby Aaron when I saw this amazing sunset...and every time after the rain when I see the sun come back out and a rainbow appears, I think of him smiling down on you.

    I know I see you smile when we get together, but it's really good to know you *really* smiled with your whole heart as thoughts of Aaron brought you peace. :)

    Love you!

  5. The tiny feet are adorable. I wish that our funeral home had done that. I am so glad that you are able to smile. Take care.


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