{"id":2253,"date":"2016-06-14T12:49:44","date_gmt":"2016-06-14T12:49:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kandynolesstevens.com\/?p=2253"},"modified":"2016-06-14T12:49:44","modified_gmt":"2016-06-14T12:49:44","slug":"and-then-this-happened","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/?p=2253","title":{"rendered":"And then this happened . . ."},"content":{"rendered":"

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After the death of a child, life does go on.<\/p>\n

But it will never be the same.<\/p>\n

There will always be the BIG moments. Milestones, such as graduations and weddings, will always have a quiet undertow which pulls at our tsunamic joy as we wistfully imagine what Reed would be doing if he were here.\u00a0 Yet it is the quiet moments of everyday, ordinary life that often sneak up and seemingly choke the life out of us.\u00a0 The sweet aroma of our loved one\u2019s life creates olfactory wisps in the simplest of situations.\u00a0 The inside jokes, the around the back hugs, the smile that could light up a room, the love of all things superhero, and just the passion for loving others are the ones missed most often.\u00a0 But then there are the silly things like when someone uses the wrong side of the Parmesan cheese that bring a smile to my face and a tear to my eyes simultaneously.<\/p>\n

Life goes on, but there is always that nagging reminder that if Reed were here, he would love (or in some cases, detest) this.<\/p>\n

Life does go on, but missing him never ends. So it was at a recent event for me.<\/p>\n

For a period of time years ago, our children were enamored with the thought that we were once children ourselves.\u00a0 This epiphany popped into their collective consciousness about the time we explained that you only had one shot at the It\u2019s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown<\/em> annually.\u00a0 At the time, videotapes were the rage and our children could not fathom that we were not able to watch, rewind, and watch over and over our favorite shows.\u00a0 They were crestfallen when I explained that the airing of the beloved Schulz creation often corresponded with my Wednesday night church obligations.\u00a0 They wept for the little girl now grown up to be their Momma.\u00a0 How tender were their hearts!<\/p>\n

When they discovered that, at first, neither parent\u2019s families owned a VCR, but rather rented one from the movie store if they wanted to watch a movie, they were hooked on learning all things family lore.\u00a0 Every night at supper, our sweet kiddos would beg us to tell them a story about our growing up years.\u00a0 We would tell and retell stories of ourselves, our parents (their grandparents), and our siblings\/aunts\/uncles\/cousins.<\/p>\n

Travelling down yesteryear\u2019s memories was a great time for all of us, but it was eye-opening to our children because we live so far away from our immediate families.\u00a0 This dinner table trend continued uninterrupted for many months \u2013 until the day the tables were turned.\u00a0 Getting into the spirit of swapping stories, Reed blurted out, \u201cSawyer, remember that time we parachuted off the bunk beds!\u201d\u00a0 Even then, second son did not suffer fools lightly and shot his redheaded older brother a look of painstaking agony, across his plate of ravioli.<\/p>\n

Of course as the parents of these two Wright brother wannabes, our ears were definitely perked.\u00a0 My calm response was, \u201cNo Reed.\u00a0 We don\u2019t remember. Do tell.\u201d\u00a0 Sawyer\u2019s dramatic slap of his hand on his own curl-covered forehead did not give the storyteller the indication he should perhaps just move on to another subject.\u00a0 Eventually, we learned the truth.\u00a0 The boys sneaked grocery store plastic shopping bags into their room, proceeded to stick their arms through the holes, and promptly jumped off the bunk beds hoping to glide effortlessly to the floor.<\/p>\n

Considering they only ever had junior style bunk beds, with the tallest being only four and half feet off the ground, they weren\u2019t very successful with their adventure.<\/p>\n

It was our first indication that our boys led a secret life to which we were not always privy.<\/p>\n

Since that moment, I have never been able to look at a plastic shopping bag or a parachute without a small smile pursing my lips.<\/p>\n

But how does this cherished memory have anything to do with grieving a boy gone much too soon?<\/p>\n

One of the things he loved was Children\u2019s Theatre \u2013 both watching and participating.\u00a0 Recently, his baby sister (who it pains me to admit is almost as old now as he was when he passed away) was involved in our local stage company\u2019s production of Peter Pan, Jr<\/em>.\u00a0 Sitting in the seats she had preselected, I felt the tug of grief spreading its icy tentacles up to my heart.\u00a0 Thoughts of \u201cReed would love this\u201d swirled in my mind. I could feel the sadness begin to emerge from my eyes.<\/p>\n

Suddenly a flash of white plastic took my breath away.\u00a0 A few rows below us was a little girl playing with her stuffed dog and yes, you guessed it – a store bag.\u00a0 I watched as over and over she fashioned a parachute for her stuffy and let it rip, gently falling to the ground next to her seat.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_1601\"<\/p>\n

My tears of sadness quickly changed to lighthearted laughter as I could practically feel one of his signature hugs enveloping me in my theater seat.\u00a0 Much like Tinkerbell\u2019s tiny voice, if I listened closely, I could almost hear my red-headed wonder whisper to my heart.\u00a0 I am right here Mom.\u00a0 I am right here. <\/em><\/p>\n

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 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  After the death of a child, life does go on. But it will never be the same. There will always be the BIG moments. Milestones, such as graduations and weddings, will always have a quiet undertow which pulls at our tsunamic joy as we wistfully imagine what Reed would be doing if he were […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[274,281,312,964,526],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2253"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2253"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2253\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2253"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2253"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2253"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}