One Month

Today is the one month anniversary of his death.  There is so much sorrow in that sentence that it leaves little else to say.  A month...

"Goodnight, sweet prince...

"...flights of angels sing thee to thy rest".

~Hamlet; William Shakespeare

This was the last thing I whispered to him.  I kissed his cheek and quoted these words and had to let him go.

"You either die a hero or...

...live long enough to see yourself become a villain."  This was ironically one of Abby's favorite quotes from the movie Dark Knight (which she loves).  Her own personal hero is gone now.  She loved him from the moment she became cognizant of his presence.  Before she could run after him her eyes followed his every movement.  They practically grew up together...we spent so much time at my mom's when she was a child.

We should all be so lucky to be someone's larger-than-life.  If I know, if nothing else, I know that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loved him with every fiber of her being.

That was his fifth birthday and she was almost five months old.

  

This was his eulogy...written and delivered by me...

Today we lay to rest the boy I thought of as my first baby.  How do you say goodbye to one you loved so much?  How do you lift up your soul from where it shrinks inside you to pour out your heart unto a page and onto the ears of those who would hear your tribute to your beloved?  It is a task I feel ill-equipped for, yet the magnitude of this day demands that I must.

I close my eyes and I see him. I see him at one day of age.  I see him at three.  I see him at 10.  I see him as I saw him last.  Vibrant, towering and vitally alive…I see him waving to me from the lobby of my workplace after a long day.  In silence I hear his voices.  I hear his baby cry.  I hear his first words.  I hear him shout “I have the power!” in his best, most ferocious He-Man imitation.

To some he was a friend.  To some he was a son.  To at least one little girl, he was a hero.   He was all those things and ever so much more.  He taught a little dog to sing while decked out in a bonnet and dress of his own creation, and he made a little baby laugh through a childhood filled with the trials of a life-threatening illness. He taught me that great love defies labels and definition.   He was pure potential and I believe with all my heart he could have done and been anything.  For you see, he was a piece of my heart, a part that no one else can ever claim and I bury it with him today.  He was sensitive and kind.  Babies and young children loved him instantly.  He had a sense of humor as gigantic as he was.  He loved to laugh.  He was very moved by the suffering of others.  He asked for little for himself, but would do anything within his power to spare the suffering of those lucky enough to be loved by him.   

“It’s de-light, Mama!  Time to wake up!”, he would exclaim as a toddler when the first morning sun touched his window.  He is walking in sunlight now that never ends.  He is eternally young and strong and I hope his face is forever lit with the spectacular light of his smile.