Tomorrow, January 17, you will become a big brother. Not just any normal big brother, but one of the most rare and special kinds - an Angel Brother. As his wise Angel Brother, you have already been watching out for The Bean for close to 40 weeks. But now, starting at 1:00 am tonight, The Bean will begin his entry into the world which will require a whole new set of Angel Brother responsibilities.
If you were physically here on earth, I would be sitting down with you to explain all your brand new duties. Things like: Be gentle with him, remember to share Momma and Dadda, show him how to pet Henry the Dog and Zeke the Cat, teach him how to dance to the Backyardigans, and demonstrate how to give really, really great hugs. Instead, Dadda and I will share these lessons with him through your stories and pictures, allowing him to learn from you while forging his own path.
As his Angel Brother, you get to watch over him from heaven and to be present in every moment, every second of his new life. To touch him through the warmth of spring sunlight, the chirp of a frog, the flight of a butterfly, the wind moving through your special wind chimes. When he is afraid of the dark, you will be the soft glow of the moon. When he is wary of thunderstorms, you will ease his fears with the pitter-patter of raindrops.
The impact of your life, your love, your Peanut Effect will benefit The Bean in every way imaginable. A better, more present Momma who never dreamed of having this second child, this miracle baby. A family who thought loss through the death of an amazing, special little boy was impossible - a family who will now treasure every single moment with his brother, and will always think of you when we see him smile. And, hopefully, a world that is kinder, more gentle.
Peanut, these hours leading up to our trip to the hospital are proving to be wildly emotional for Momma. I am reliving the hours and minutes of your birth date. The overpowering love, the anxiety, the boundless hopes and expectations for the future. Yet, this time there is a new element, one of sadness, of something - someone - who is stunningly absent. You. While I can feel you in my heart, I would give anything, anything, ANYTHING to see you smile and touch your little brother tomorrow, the next day, 10 days and 10 years from now.
As I write this, I can hear your wind chimes ringing loudly in the wind, and I know you are here. My Angel Son, and Bean's Angel Brother. I take a deep breath, wipe away the tears, and prepare for the next chapter...it begins tomorrow.
I love you Peanut. To the moon and back!