This morning I was sitting on the back porch drinking a cup of coffee, watching my dogs play, and taking in the silence of an early Sunday morning. The longer I sat the less I enjoyed the silence. I don't want to be living this quiet life. I don't want to be able to be up at 4:30 and have no sounds in the house. I want to hear him breathing. I want to hear him cry.
This past week I have had a lot of friends give birth to their babies and post all the pictures that come with it on Facebook. The pictures that struck me the most were the ones of the first time the baby was placed in the moms arms. The look in the moms eyes is something you don't see anywhere else. It is a look of expectation for the life to come, a look full of love, a look of adoration, and especially of look full of dreams of a life time. That new baby placed in their arms is now the parents entire existence. That child will soon be their entire life. Most parents look into the face of their child and see hope and future. The morning I meet Trent I saw what could have been. I saw everything I would never have. I saw a child that would never grow, or run, or walk, or cry. I saw a life that I would miss forever. The pictures this week have been heart wrenching. Those mommies and daddies will look back at those pictures of the first days and will have forgotten how tiny their now 2 or 3 year old started out. They will some where along the way get lost in the now and forget the then. But, for me it will always be the then. I will never get to see his face in any other way. I will never see his first smile. I will never know him more than I knew him that day.
I was reading the blog Still Life 365 today and this statement was profound to me...
When our children die, we suddenly touch our ancestors in the same moment that we touch our legacy. It is like time has folded in on itself.
When our children die we are only left with the quiet memories. Our hearts scream with pain, our mind explodes with questions, but, the world around us is silent.
Death is silent.
As, our children have gone before us our legacy has too.
We were not meant to out live them.
My world is too quiet.