Friday, July 24, 2009

Signs Everywhere

Wednesday was hard, harder than most days. I have yet to find the word which adequately describes the emptiness. I park the car and automatically open the back door, reaching for Cooper, but he isn't there. To take Abbi for a walk leaves my hands searching for the stroller and Cooper's face looking back at me. The day is no longer full of therapy, floor time, meds and feedings. We still say goodnight to Cooper every night, but there is no more bath or bedtime routine. Each day is just another day. 

For some crazy reason I thought it would feel better, maybe even good, to put Cooper's crib back in his room. The DME company came to pick up all of the borrowed medical equipment on Tuesday and I wanted his room to feel like it did before the gm1 became more intense. Once we had the twin beds back in the guest room, the crib in Cooper's room and the doors back on their hinges, I knew it was wrong. I was thankful for David's patience and that he just quietly helped me put it back the way Cooper left it. 
This week I tried out an adult horseback riding class. For one hour it felt good to focus on the movements of the horse and let go of my thoughts. On my way home I was flooded with memories of Cooper riding with me on his first birthday and the look of content and enjoyment on his face when riding (hippotherapy) with Mrs Jennifer. 

This morning I woke up longing for morning time snuggles and the smell of last night's bath. What I wouldn't give to feel the weight of his body in my arms and his head on my chest. 

Little reminders of Cooper are everywhere... the bluejay feather we found on a walk, the butterflies that tease each other above our swing, the dragonfly that welcomed me home from the grocery store... maybe it's just me missing him so badly which makes me hold onto this feeling that everything has a deeper meaning. It certainly helps me get through the day to think so, even if it sounds a little crazy. Maybe it's all perspective, seeing what we want to see, but at times those little reminders make me smile so I'm not going to analyze it.

The other day I went to visit Cooper at the Gardens and just as I was sitting down a little frog popped up! It surprised me a little but then it just sat with me as if to say don't worry, he's never alone. Cooper's little frog was still there when I left.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Waterbugs & Dragonflies

The day after Cooper's Memorial Service we had a private family service at Remembrance Gardens. It is a beautiful and inspiring Garden in the hills, full of shady trees that wander down to Lake Austin. Our pastor gave us this children's book afterwards...it was too fitting not to share. 

Waterbugs and Dragonflies

By Doris Stickney


Down below the surface of a quiet pond lived a little colony of water bugs. They were a happy colony, living far away from the sun. For many months they were very busy, scurrying over the soft mud on the bottom of the pond. They did notice that every once in a while one of their colony seemed to lose interest in going about with its friends. Clinging to the stem of a lily, it gradually moved out of sight and was seen no more.


'Look!' said one of the water bugs to another, 'One of our colony is climbing up the lily stalk. Where do you suppose she is going?' Up, up, up it went slowly. Even as they watched, the water bug disappeared from sight. Its friends waited and waited but it didn't return. 'That's funny!' said one water bug to another. 'Wasn't she happy here?' asked a second water bug. 'Were do you suppose she went?' wondered a third. No one had an answer. They were greatly puzzled.


Finally one of the water bugs, the leader of the colony, gathered its friends together. 'I have an idea. The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk must promise to come back and tell us where she went and why.' 'We promise', they said solemnly.


One spring day, not long after, the very water bug who had suggested the plan found himself climbing up the lily stalk. Up, up, up he went. Before he knew what was happening, he had broken through the surface of the water, and had fallen onto the broad, green lily pad above.


When he awoke, he looked about with surprise. He couldn't believe what he saw. A startling change had come to his old body. His movement revealed four silver wings and a long tail. Even as he struggled, he felt an impulse to move his wings. The warmth of the sun soon dried the moisture from the new body. He moved his wings again and suddenly found himself up above the water. He had become a dragonfly.


Swooping and dipping in great curves, he flew through the air. He felt exhilarated in the new atmosphere. By and by, the new dragonfly lighted happily on a lily pad to rest. Then it was that he chancd to look below to the bottom of the pond. Why, he was right above his old friends, the water bugs!. There they were, scurrying about, just as he had been doing some time before. Then the dragonfly remembered his promise: 'The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk will come back and tell where he or she went and why'.


Without thinking, the dragonfly darted down. Suddenly he hit the surface of the water and bounced away. Now that he was a dragonfly he could no longer go into the water. 'I can't return!' he said in dismay. 'At least I tried, but I can't keep my promise. Even if I could go back, not one of the water bugs would know me in my new body. I guess I'll just have to wait until they become dragonflies too. Then they'll understand what happened to me, and where I went'.


And the dragonfly winged off happily into its wonderful new world of sun and air. 

A PRAYER
Thank you, God, for the story of the water bugs and the dragonflies. Thank you for the miracle that makes shiny dragonflies out of water bugs.
Please remember Cooper who has left the pond we live in. Give him a good life, too, in a wonderful new world of sun and air. And then remember me, and let me someday be with him.
Amen.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Angel Wings

Cooper peacefully earned his wings this afternoon as the three of us sat on the swing under our tree in the backyard. We were talking and rocking, and he just decided it was time. We are so thankful that he chose the time and place. It couldn't have happened that way if we'd planned it... just as it should be.

Goodnight Cooper. We love you.