The Dance

Tonight I was watching.

My children were at play outside. They were running and laughing in the summer sun- but it wasn't this that caught my attention.

As they were at play there was a butterfly. One that seemed to frolic with them. Dance really. And while I know it is just a butterfly, it made me think of him and wonder.

Andrew would be turning seven next month! SEVEN! He'd be reading, riding his bike and probably writing like his brother. I wonder what he would say.

I watched Joe and the the butterfly that seemed to chase him, chase all of them, join in the fun.

And then to my delight another butterfly came and suddenly the laughter faded and I just watched the dance. Delighted in it. It was beautiful and peaceful. They would rise and fall, flutter and glide. They were a pair. And as I watched my heart grew.

Suddenly I had an image that I hadn't had before...

Our baby E would have been walking by now. As odd as it is, I remember feeling sad that Andrew did not have the joy that I see in our children as they play together, laugh together- but today that feeling left me. For in my mind, I could imagine him running. Running hand in hand with a toddler- what would have been our toddler. I could imagine him helping and guiding and supporting and laughing.

Laughing.

I could see their outline. The sun in the distance keeping them a shadow to me. But I saw them. I watched the dance. I heard the laughter.

I know he's there. I know they're there. They have been there with me, dancing around me, celebrating with me, cheering me on. They have been there all along. Supporting their mother as she learned to live again. To breathe again. To feel again.

They've been there all along.
I hold them close and yet they soar.
Tonight I saw it all.