This is what Reese told his buddy today. THey were sitting in the back seat on the way to our house for a play date and Reese couldn't wait to welcome him into our home and play with his toys with his friend. But first you must know about us.... I didn't hear what sparked this conversation...and i was straining my ears to hear them two rows behind me as I drove. I heard Reese say, "I have two brothers." I knew where this was going and the next thing that I hear is his friend say, "where is he?" And Reese said, "Up there" as matter-of-factly as the color of the sky. His friend said something and Reese said, "he didn't get out soon enough." "Out of my mom." "Yeah, but at least we got to see him." "I had a headache that day." His friend said something else and Reese said, "He would be two now."
It feels like a dozen sharp cuts sometimes. I know it's coming. And it still stings. Hearing Reese tell his version of how his little brother died. Tell this story of when he was 3 years old. It tears my heart. It makes me want to vomit. It rocks me to my very core. Just when I think I am used to mothering my child up in heaven and living my daily life......I'm taken back once again. A blow to the stomach as I listen to the story that my little boy tells. The accuracy in even his little version makes the pain so raw. The pain for him....what he remembers....what he felt....what is important to share with his friend...at just 6 years of age. I'm so sorry, buddy. I hate that we lost our baby boy. I hate that you lost your baby brother. I hate that even you in your naive youth have such vivid memories of this tragedy. Yet this is all we have and we must hold tight to our memories. We still have a long journey ahead of us and this story as you see it is all that matters. I promise you you'll get to hold him one day. I promise.