Can I let go someday?

Ani, will there be a time when I don't need to be vigilant on your medication refills?
When I don't have to bug the pharmacy for the refill because if you don't get the correct dose you might get a "fatal rash"?
Can I ever stop mentally measuring your awareness? Your seizures?
When can I stop worrying that you might just up and leave me suddenly?
When can I stop feeling guilty that I've got so much of my love invested in you that I might not give enough to Micah and Mommy?
Can I ever stop trying to make sure that others see you as a fully important person, not just a lump in a chair?
Will I get to stop reminding people that you understand what's being said, and to be polite around you?
I will never blame you for any of these feelings, you are a source of strength to me.

Will I ever stop the fear I get by mentally putting myself in your condition?

Show me Micah's path

Lord, where is Micah going?  What path is he on?  Where should my guidance lead him?  My heart is as heavy as any time in my life when I hear someone from his daycare say that she's afraid that he might be a danger to others and himself. Where do I find my influence in this behavior?  I don't punch or hit or kick or spit or throw things. Where was I absent in parenting that allowed him to get here?  I am so confused because he is totally normal around me. But whatever influence I may have with him is forgotten when he's not around me. He claims he's not afraid of me, but obeys because he loves me. Where is my failure?  How do I improve?  If this is his own "demon", how do I help him defeat it?

Help me. 

Just one time, please?

Nate,
I cry for your presence, and I don't see you.
I yell to see you, and you're not here.
My heart aches to tell you I love you.
And then I realize there are many Dads doing the same thing as I.
For children lost far too soon.
God, could you just one time let me see a crowd of children around me?
Children happy to be in Heaven?
It would make earth a little bit easier to put up with.

Again

Here we are again Ani.  

You about to go under the knife. 

Which helps you. 

Which hurts you. 

What do you think of me?

Your smile stays with me. 

Don't be scared. 

I am with you, praying. 

God is with you, He knows what you've been through. 

He is strong even when you and I can't be. 

Don't think my tears are from worry about this. 

I cry even when you're feeling fine. 

My heart and head are in constant battle. 

It's logical that to heal, sometimes you have to hurt. 

But that doesn't stop my heart from arguing that hurting you isn't keeping you safe. 

I remember your room

Ani, I remember your room. 

Up the stairs when you could still climb. 

Tall bookcases we tried to keep you off of. 

A little stair step to your bed that his special dolls that were impossible to get the clothes on. 

A closet that held lovely dresses. 

Lovely dresses that were all you wanted to wear. 

A place where "dark hug" was sacred. 

A place were you were sacred, and safe, so I thought. 

Do I remember enough of your room Ani?

Thanks, during stress

Lord, thank you. 

Even in my times of great stress, I must remember to thank you for the many gifts in my life. 

First and foremost, thank you for your son's sacrifice for me. 

Thank you for my wife.

Thank you for my children, even the short time we had Nate, his life helps shape us to this day. 

Thank you for the strength and peace you've given Christy and I to keep getting through each day after the accident. 

Thank you for my family and friends and the strength they give me. 

Thank you for my musical ability. 

Thank you for my brain. 

Thank you for the wonderful balance between being an artist and scientist you gave me. 

Thank you for my current job. It's very rewarding, and I work with varied and wonderful people. 

Back to school

Let me start this post with this: I pray for all children going back to school.

Having said this, it's difficult, in my soul, to see the pictures on Facebook of all the kids going back to school. All of them full of smiles, wearing their new backpacks. Nobody has to be sorry about posting the pictures.

I remember Ani's first day, as I cried while wheeling her to the special bus. I watched as the lift took her up, and the attendant Knowing that she wouldn't be able to speak to new friends, or play on the playground.
I'll never remember Nate's first day at school, he'll never have it.
Ever since Ani was born, I've been looking forward to questions from my children like "Why is the sky blue?", "Why is the Sun yellow?", "What are the stars?", and I only got a couple like that from Ani. Certainly I'll get these questions from Micah, and to be sure, I've already told Ani the answers. I ache, because even at 2.5 years old, I knew Nate was going to be a lot like me, and I'll never get to answer his questions.