On the Eve of September

I've been waiting for September.  When I changed my calendar to August, I suddenly became keenly aware of time.  Much like I felt nine years ago.  No babies in August? That must mean they'll have a September birthday.

Is it because its been nearly a decade? Is it because yet again I have twins (now boys) in my classroom?

I don't know.

But for whatever reason I have been anticipating September and dreading its arrival.

And for that I feel torn.  I should welcome the month I became a mother.  I should be celebrating my sweet Jonasen and all that he is, but I always feel the heaviness of September and perhaps it is something he can now see.

Today we found Joe by himself, sitting in the corner.  This is not like him and for us we felt it was some sort of attention seeking thing.  When we tried to pry out of him what it was he was sulking about he said, "I just don't feel special."

It was almost laughable.

My husband and I looked at each other wondering what in the world he could possibly be talking about. Whether serious or not we started listing all the things that make him special but because we were in 'teasing' mode we said, "Well it's not because... and would say a reason he was special." We followed this up with tickles and hugs and kisses.  We got him back.

He got his smile back.

That felt good.

Joe ran errands with me and I felt that all was well.

That is until he got in trouble (not picking something up) and suddenly he brought me a note asking me who he was special to... why he was special...

sigh.

Is this normal?

Did I do something wrong?

I told him I think it's ridiculous that he EVER doubt that he is special~

But... because it's nice to get a nice note, I decided to write him.

Dear Joey,

My heart hurts that you would ever for a moment doubt that you are special.  Perhaps I am not a good mom to you and I am not doing my job. The fact that you would ever doubt how special you are or not feel my love, tells me that I am doing something wrong.

I don’t think that I could ever fit into one letter all the ways that you are special but I will write some down because for some reason that is what you feel you need.

1. You are special because you were born and because you lived. That in itself is a miracle and makes you crazy special!
2. You are special because you were named after the Jonasens who were amazing people and changed my life.
3. You are special because you made me a better person.
4. You are special because you have an amazing love of books and you remember things that you read (I do not).
5. You are special because I don’t know many kids that can eat an entire can of ravioli and still have more if their mom would let them.
6. You are special because you make other people feel special and cheer them on.
7. You are special because you have a laugh that can make other people laugh with you.
8. You are special because you have rhythm (and trust me, not everyone has that... You will score points with the ladies one day).
9. You are special because you are the only boy in this family with brown eyes (and I’m the only girl).
10. You are special because people around the world know your name and your story and think you are amazing even though they’ve never talked to you.
11. You are special because you don’t see skin color.
12. You are special because you can recognize when someone is making a bad choice and try to make it better.
13. You are special because you love to draw and read books (which most kids don’t like so much... sadly).
14. You are special because you would rather have water (some days) than pop.
15. You are special because you can drop your fishing line in the water and fish seem to jump out of the water to get to you.
16. You are special because your brothers and sister adore you and always want to be around you... probably the reason for the nightly sleepovers all summer long.
17. You are special because you talk to God, and He hears you.
18. You are special because you have a creative mind and soul.  You are always making things and creating things and not everyone can do that.
19. You are special because you saved me.  It was YOU that got me out of bed those mornings when I didn’t think I could. You taught me love can exist where pain is and that there is nothing in this world that is better than being your mom.  You were the rainbow I saw through the storm and you will NEVER know how much I love you.
20. You are special because your dad and the rest of your family and friends could write a list just as long (and longer) about the reasons you are special and they could all be totally different and entirely true!

I am running out of room on this paper but please don’t ever tell me you’re not special again.  If you want to hear the reasons I love you, ask. But NEVER tell me you’re not special again. It hurts me. God doesn't make mistakes.  He made you for a reason and those reasons are many.

~All my love,

Mom

And then I started to pause (as I often do) and wondered all the ways he would have been special... That boy that was born first, a minute before Joe.  I wondered what I would have written him.  I wonder what would have been on his list.  I wonder what his smile would have looked like as his dad and I teased and tickled HIM! 

And I was reminded, I'll never have that list.  Just a dream. Sometimes if I close my eyes, I can still see two.

***I should now add that Joe gave me a big hug, and promised me that if he ever wants to hear the reasons I love him, he will ask... but he will NEVER tell me he's not special again (we'll see...).

Pieces

Sometimes it's like you're hiding behind your glasses.  You go through the motions of  your day, you smile at the correct times but inside you're a mess and the days go by and the calendar moves and you are stuck.  I used to feel like I was in slow motion watching as everyone whizzed around me, not even noticing I was there. I could blend. Disappear.

I'm a good chameleon.
I always have been.

I can put a smile on my face and you would never know the hurt underneath.  You'd never know that I still wince inside when I see twins or even hear the word, catch my breath when someone calls out, "Andrew!" or stop and stare when I see blond pigtails in the distance that could have been her's.

It' doesn't really matter that it's been almost nine years. I still pause~ it's always right there, right below the surface and it's hard. Talking with a friend whose scars are a little more fresh and have not had the time to scab over, I gave her permission. Permission to still be sad.  Still be hurt. Still be mad. Sometimes you need to take off the glasses and just cry.

Those things don't go away.  They can soften but that scab can be ripped off in a moment and you find there on your knees wondering... why???????

There is a song I love called Pills. It reminds me of so many days when I wasn't Okay. I wasn't okay but no one really knew. I would look around at all the people and wonder what's there? What's right there underneath the skin that is keeping them up at night? I used to feel so alone and then I realized that we're all here, walking around with a brokenness about us, just trying to pick up the pieces and put them back into their jagged places. But sometimes once they've broken they just won't fit the way they used to~

Thinking of you and wishing you peace.

The Butterflies~ September

The butterflies are out.
The bush is hideous! It looks like an overgrown weed and yet I look forward to its growing each year because I know they'll come~ and they always do.  Is it the butterflies?

My children run in the yard, they ride their bikes, they laugh, but I note the butterflies that dance around them.  My eyes stay on them and try to will them to stay.  To stick around. To dance with them just a little longer.

The butterflies.

It's the time of year when I look up and at him, or catch his laugh and I pause and wonder... what if? Why does it hit me like this?  There is no rhyme or reason?  Is it the butterflies?

Or is it the knowledge that September is coming... A flip of the calendar and it will be here again.  Another September 15th will come and it will be another year since I held his little body in my arms, kissed him goodbye. Another year.

Time.

My friend.

My Enemy.

Time gave me ways~ ways to deal with missing him~ ways to feel my tears coming and understanding that they would stop. Time was my friend.  It gave me moments to pause and think of him.  All the good he's done.  All the lives he's changed.  Time.  Time to say his name.  Andrew.

Oh but time... Another day is another day away from you.  Away from that day that I held you in my arms and smelled you.  That I felt your body next to mine, felt your hand grab on to me.  Time passes and so do those memories of you kicking me, kicking your brother. Oh, how I loved to watch you move.

Time is not my friend.  I forget.  And that makes me sad, but yet they remember... somehow they always remember to come.

The butterflies.

It's almost another September and I know that it too will be here and gone... too soon.