I am always here, Mom

I feel like Colton, in little ways, tells me he is always here with me.  Like at the airport and the butterfly on the wing of the airplane.  The rainbow on a rainless day when I needed peace.  Little things that calm my heart and make me feel as though he is saying "I am always here, Mom". 

Yesterday we had a wonderful day, celebrating summer and family and life with our friends.  We had forty people in our home, an equal blend of adults and children.  People were in and out of the pool, 20 people at one point!  There was wonderful conversation and laughter throughout the day.  At one point I thought "this would be even better if Colton was here".

Just at that time a dragonfly fluttered into the back yard.  He hoovered across the pool and circled around.  For the rest of the day this dragonfly came in and out of the yard.  Just one sole dragonfly making it's presence known and bringing with it the peace of "I will always be here".  (If you are unfamiliar with the symbolism of a dragonfly please google it ... definitely a symbol of hope for me)

The peace of the dragonfly alone was all I needed, yet it didn't stop there.  My friend brought her little girl over.  She is almost five months old and such a good, sweet, beautiful little girl.  I stole her for the day, playing with her, feeding her ... And finally in the evening she became very tired.  There was too much noise and she was getting fussy.  I asked her mom if it would be okay if I took her in and rocked her ...

I went into Colton's room with this little baby in my arms and I felt ... love.  I felt peace and comfort.  I sat in the glider intended to nurse and rock my son in and rocked this little girl to sleep.  She so quickly fell quite and peaceful in slumber and it gave me time to just reflect and soak it in.  Her mom came in to check and make sure I was okay.  I was; but mom wasn't and left crying.  She admitted that while I am doing okay she hasn't done well with his loss and it was hard on her.  I appreciated knowing someone else grieves him, misses him. 

Sitting there, though, rocking her little girl I felt at peace.  I realized that I do want another baby down the road, but I'm in no rush.  And if we can't have another baby, that'd be okay too.  I won't change the theme of the room (which I'd been battling myself over) and I won't take Colton's name off the wall, but I'd add another child's name to the wall.  Colton will always be part of our lives.  That will always be his room, and maybe some day a little sibling's room.  For now, it's his and it's okay that he isn't there physically.  He is there, he is here, he is everywhere ... he is never further than a thought, a wish, a promise on the wind that he is okay. 

The next three months are going to be hard.  No matter how at peace I am, no matter how much healing I experience, his birthday will be difficult.  I don't disillusion myself otherwise.  However I am also confident that he will show himself that day and the days between now and then and the days after then when I need him most.  And, more than anything, he will always be alive in my heart, where my love will always grow for him.  He will never be more than a thought away.  And that is comfort beyond reason.