Not long ago, I posted about the recurring dream I had been having about trying to sort through our things in Charleston. Last week, I got a phone call. Someone I love drove to the place where our old mobile home used to be. It was no longer there. He told me I could stop having my dreams now because there was nothing to go back to and I could be at peace now. What a wonderful, loving thing to do for me!
Since then, my life has been upside down. I've had two dreams of Tommy, but I can't remember them. I remember that they were sad dreams, so it's probably a good thing I can't remember them right now. I have something weighing heavily on my mind that I know is affecting my dreams.
I've reached another milestone. One month left. On July 16th, Tommy will have been gone from this Earth longer than he lived. This is a very sad time for me. It will mean I have lived longer without my sweet boy than time I was able to spend with him. I feel myself slipping farther away from him. I find myself constantly looking at pictures, and reading old stories about him, trying to keep his memory fresh in my mind. I worry that someday I will be the only one who knew him and when I am gone, he will be too.
He was the bravest, toughest, most stubborn, happiest kid I have ever met. He could charm the socks off of any nurse in the hospital and have every doctor he met scratching their head in amazement. Every breath he took and every beat of his heart was a true miracle. I remember hearing doctors tell me that I was doing an amazing job with him. He gained weight, he looked good, I stayed on top of everything, he was doing remarkable, blah, blah, blah... I'm no saint, I was just being a mom. I'm sure subconsciously I was working harder because he did require more than a typical child, but it didn't matter. My child needed me and I was there for him. End of story. Parents tell me they just don't know how I did it, or they could never do all that I did for Tommy. Sure they could, had they been in my shoes.
I would give up every breath in my body to do it all again. Every surgery, every procedure, every medicine, every trip to the ER. Every little thing we did for him gave us another moment of life with Tommy. I cherish the moment he entered this world through my body to the moment he looked at me for the last time and took his last breath and every moment in between. I stare in amazement at a picture of him sleeping on his tummy. It took a year of therapy and hard work to get to that moment, but he did it! Most 18 month old kids are learning to walk, talk and explore. Tommy was learning to sit up all by himself.
I wish I could have seen the day he took a step.
30 more days left. 30 more days until I reach another milestone I never wanted to see. It's just another day, right? Another day just like today that I am aching to hear that laugh and hold him in my arms.