He was infatuated with the ever changing moon. My son loved playing and being outside. There was a day during our evening exercises that he looked toward the sky, pointed to the moon, and began to leap for the mysterious and distant moon. He must’ve jumped at least a hundred times trying to reach that celestial object so profound in the sky. Pebs pointed, turned towards me and forced me to look at what he was pointing towards, and then continued to jump for it. He was so proud to have discovered this bright, astronomical “ball” that he apparently didn’t think I knew existed.
Since September 25, 2017, I haven’t missed a single day or night without searching the sky for the moon. Most days I see it and try to capture it with my phone camera whether it’s during the day or night. Some days, I talk to him. I tell him how much I miss him, and with tears rolling down my face, I ask him for strength. Other days, I just stare. I allow my thoughts to roam, to be free. But most of the days, I thank God. It wasn’t on the first day or a week after. It probably wasn’t even a month after my son’s passing that I was grateful to Him. I am not even sure when my thankfulness became present, but my heart is filled with appreciation, humbleness, and undeserving love for my great Heavenly Father.
One day, I’ll be able to write about that tragic day. I’ll magically script the horrific nightmare that tortures me and strengthens me all at once, but today isn’t the day. One day, I know I’ll relive that moment through words and know that projecting them on screen isn’t for my grief journey, but for others who will need to hear the story for their own grief and hope.
My Pebs. I often think what he would be doing now, what new words he would be speaking, and how far would he be hitting the baseball with his bat. Those thoughts tend to haunt and torture a grieving mother. I don’t allow myself to stay there long or often. I spend time on our pond that we have in the backyard. I lay on the pier and look up into the sky. I spot the moon and stare. I talk to him. I tell him how much I miss him. I let him know how much I love him. I express with my tears and words how much I wish he was here. I stare some more at the moon. The ever changing moon. Then, with the tears flowing rapidly now, I thank Him. I thank God for allowing ME to be his mom. What a blessing to have had the privilege to be Pebble’s mama! He chose me. He gave us 21-months with our sweet baby boy. He filled our hearts with so much joy, love, laughter, and a plethora of blessings! He blessed me with my son. He blessed me then, he blessed me on that horrible day, and he continues to bless me, now and forever. I walk through faith. I am a blessed child of God.
“When the storms rage on, I look back and remember, how you’ve been my rock. You’ve been faithful to me. And I know I’m loved, I can stand on this promise. Through it all and say You’ve been good to me. ” -Faithful To Me worship song (Grace Houston Worship)