Jan 9, 2008

Where Do You Come From?

“How will your children know who they are If they don’t know where they came from?”

– Ma, in “Grapes of Wrath.”

Jan 7, 2008


I don't dream about Michael. I never have. I wish I could have seen him, just once, but it wasn't to be. But I feel more at peace about him.

His presence in our lives was a blessing beyond measure in more ways than love. Losing a child is no fun way to come to terms with your life, but this is how it happened for Hubbers. The death of our son brought upon him a life changing cataclysm and emotional breakthrough.

Hubbers was my rock during the diagnosis. Tears shining in his eyes, coursing down my cheeks. His confident touch, his unending love, just his constant presence during that three weeks after the loss.

A month after Michael left, Hubbers broke down, broke through, and was able to cry about our baby. His shuddering sobs touched my heart in ways I cannot describe. I was able to be there for him now; to hold him during his pain.

The result: Hubbers realizes how important we are to him; how important I am to him. He knows he loves me, but didn't FEEL it (his words). He has been much easier to get close to since our loss. He shows his love in ways that don't involved s-e-x.

Rambling. That's all this is. And I can see that I do not explain things as I understand them. My explanation is callous, rough, untamed. Forgive me my inelegance.

While our son is gone, I still feel his presence in my life. I feel him nearby, watching over us, loving us. I will never forget. The leaving of our son, though a ripping pain, was also a healing balm.