I don't even know where to begin sometimes. There is so much in my head threatening to spill out and I try to marshal it, corral it, and rein it all in, but often it is too much.
The death of Blake has naturally hit our little community hard. The WS-mommy bloggers (as I refer to us) have been together for some time now. I think I was the first to start three years ago, but our numbers have exploded over the past couple years. There are so many of us now I cannot keep up with everyone (thus why I only have a select few linked on my blog). It's amazing to have this close group of friends, the majority of whom I have never even met in person. We have been there for each other through it all - the highs and lows, the triumphs and challenges. We have counseled, supported, and loved each other on the phone, via e-mail, through our blog posts and comments. We have been there through those tough days, nail-biting tests and evaluations, multiple echos, caths, procedures, and surgeries. But this is the first time we have experienced death in our community. That one of our precious children is gone. And, at least to me personally, it has sent me reeling.
My heart just aches for Whitney, Troy, Brandon, and their family. I cannot begin to fathom what they are going through. I pray I never have to find out. Yet I know this has been another dose of reality of how fragile many of our children are. Last night, as I said my final good-nights to Jamie and Clare, I leaned into Clare's bottom bunk. She was sitting there in her blue airplane hand-me-down boy pajamas, her crazy curls standing on end, and wearing dress-up earrings, a bracelet, and a ring (which she must have smuggled in her bed sometime during her afternoon nap). She looked so beautiful, so sweet, so tiny. I gave her a big squeeze and whispered, "Mommy loves you so much." She touched my face and whispered back, "I love you." That's what keeps me going.