Froggy Friend

Peanut -

I spent a large portion of today missing you, and feeling terribly blue.  My mind was occupied with thoughts of everything we should be doing...how much fun you would be having in the pool, running around the yard, swinging, watching Disney movies, and just turning into a little boy, in general.  My little boy, to be specific.

The unfairness of all of this came rushing in today like a flood - a flood I've been unable to slow down or control.  I know there are no answers, but I can't stop looking for something to blame.  A totally unproductive emotion and activity, but it's where my mind keeps treading.  I want answers I will never have...at least, not anytime soon.  And, it scares the hell out of me.  How can I optimistically plan for the future, when I have no confidence in what tomorrow will bring?  It's just so...hard.

Just as I was feeling my lowest today, Dadda brought me a visitor who snuck into the house.  A tiny, bright green Froggy Friend - just like your magical School and Home Froggies.  He hopped up on the bed, jumped over to me, then sprang across the bed once! twice! three times!  Dadda and I had to leap over to stop him from flying across the room.  A fearless little Froggy...just like our Peanut.  As far as we can recall, the one and only thing that ever scared you was the vacuum cleaner.  The mere sight and sound of that machine was enough to drive you into Momma's arms in an instant with panic eyes!  (Trust me, I get it - big, red, noisy monster!)

That bright green Froggy Friend made me laugh.  Just hearing the sound of my own laughter gave me some hope.  And, hope is what we need to hang on to for now, for the future.  And, to honor you, sweet Peanut.  I love you sooooooo very much.  To the moon and back!

- Momma

Peanut...Incoming!!!

Peeaaaaaaaaanuckle!

You made Momma and Dadda's day today.  Henry's too.  Despite the oppressive St. Louis heat, we found a very pleasant spot in the shade this afternoon to hang out, catch the minimal breeze and play fetch with Henry...all while looking out over your Very Special Tree.  Wait, wait.  Let's back up a few hours.

So, this morning was overwhelmingly sad for Momma.  We went to IHOP for breakfast, and I couldn't shake my memories of visiting IHOP with you last fall and winter.  You loved their pancakes with syrup - and everyone who worked there just adored you.  It felt so wrong having breakfast there without you.  Then again, there really aren't any places that feel "right" anymore.  So, there we sat, in the middle of IHOP with Momma crying into her orange juice.  <sigh>

Back to this afternoon.  There we were - playing fetch, lounging in the grass, talking about you (and complaining a bit about the 13-year cicadas).  When suddenly, out of nowhere we see this large, bright orange butterfly.  It came sweeping in from above, and flew directly into Henry's snout, hovering for a moment then initiating a spirited game of tag.  Henry leapt and bound around the yard, giving chase while Dadda and I called out "PEANUT!"  With that, the butterfly flitted our way to say "Hi! hi! hi! hi!" then winged off back over Henry's head, across the front yard, over to your bedroom window, then off to the side of the house.  It was you.  Dadda and I felt it with such power, it brought us both to tears.  Amazing.  Powerful.  Direct Peanut Contact.

Peanut, I truly believe we receive the signs we are open to hearing, seeing, feeling.  Since January I have made the deliberate decision to be an open vessel.  To believe.  To have faith.  A hard thing for a skeptic like Momma.  But the rewards have been amazing.  I feel you by my side, in my heart, holding my hand every single day.  In this way, you continue to be part of my day-to-day conversations, decisions, thoughts.  You lift my spirit in the dark, sad moments.  You send me memories when I'm afraid I'm forgetting.  You visit with a hug, froggy or butterfly when I need to know you're still present.  And you very much are, every moment of every day.

Peanut, I love you more than words can ever describe.  Actually, I don't think there is a word for the love I feel for you...a definite flaw of the English language.  But, as I told you every night when you were on earth, and I will tell you every night for eternity - I love you to the moon and back!

- Momma

CowMOOOOOOOflage!

Peanut -

I loved, loved, loved your "big boy" car seat.  It was so nice to transition from the khaki and orange Chicco pumpkin seat to your grown-up, front-facing real seat.  Dadda and I went in decidedly different directions when it came to choosing what you would transition into for a car seat.  He chose a nice, calm steel gray seat that blended with the colors of his car.  But Momma?  Oh, no way.  I ran out and found the Britax Cowmooflage seat that totally stood out against my beige interior.  And, every time I put you in my car I give you a giant, "Mooooooooooooo!"

It's interesting.  Your car seat is one of the things I still look for every day.  I find myself opening the back door to get you, and I constantly check the rearview mirror since you and I used to make faces for each other in the mirror every morning.  Sometimes I think I catch a shadow of you.  I have a hard time putting anything else in the back seat now.  Especially in Your Spot.  It's like I'm holding or reserving it for you.  Odd?  Maybe.

I miss dropping you off at school in the mornings.  It always started my day off with a smile and laugh.  We would get to your school, park the car, and I'd come around to your door.  You knew the program.  As soon as the door opened, you would start to pump your little legs, and you'd give me your monkey noises, "Oh! Oh! Ohohohoh!"  We would get you untethered from the seat, zip up your coat, and off we went...sometimes I would carry you but in those last few weeks I would hold your hand and we'd WALK into school like a big boy and his very proud Momma.  Your teachers and friends would always greet you with hugs and food (even though you'd already had breakfast)!  Leaving was the hardest part.  Those last few weeks were filled with tears and you trying to follow me out the door...but I always knew I'd get to hug and hold you again in just a few hours.  I also knew how much you adored school and your amazing teachers.

It's so hard to believe I'll never see your toothy grin or raised eyebrow stare in my rearview mirror again.  My little Peanut who was so full of life, character, personality.  I am beyond thankful for the days we had and the memories I have to share, but still...as we march towards the 6-month milestone your loss is becoming all too real.  

Peanut, I think about that cowmooflage car seat and I realize, it was just perfect.  The perfect amount of funny, goofiness for you.  For me.  I look at that seat and I smile.  I see your funny faces and I hear, "Mooooooooooo!"  And it creates joy and laughter.  And, that's what it's about.

I love you, Peanut, to the moon and back.
- Momma

Lightning Bug Tag

Peanut -

I had a visit from you and some of your buddies last night.  It was that wonderful moment in time, between dusk and dark, when the cicadas are out in full voice.  I was in the side yard with Henry the Puppy, checking on your Special Peanut Tree and I saw you.  In the form of lightning bugs.  The first ones I've seen this season.  There was a small group of you, playing around Your Tree, obviously having a wonderful time.  There were no other lightning bugs anywhere else in the yard...just your little playgroup zooming around showing off your tail-lights.  And all I could think was "Lightning Tag!"  And I smiled.

This has been a trying, exhausting week for Momma.  I've been getting fully re-engaged at the office which means encountering a LOT of people every single day.  People who haven't seen me since January.  Every day has been filled with questions, concern, some fear and trepidation, but overall an overwhelming amount of love and care.  Still, I'm relieved to be working remotely tomorrow.  I need some space to breathe.  Because even when I'm fully connected to work, busy in the middle of the day, surrounded by co-workers, you sneak up on me in the form of powerful images, memories and tears.

Peanut, I've sure been missing you a lot this week.  I miss your hands in my hair, touching my face, playing with my eyelashes.  I miss watching you study my face while I gaze at you in amazement...you were my little boy.  You represented the best parts of me.  You still do.  I love you so very, very much.  To the moooooon and back!

- Momma

Warrior Hugs

Peanut -


Last week I was forwarded another momma's blog (http://bissingfamily.wordpress.com/) who is in the midst of an awful tragedy.  One of her 6-month old triplets was found unresponsive in his crib, and while they were able to get his heartbeat back, they eventually had to make the heart-wrenching decision to end life support.  Through the amazing Children's Miracle Network, they were able to pass life along to numerous, waiting organ donation candidates, helping to ensure their little warrior - Owen - lives on.  Did you know that the name Owen means "warrior"?  How fitting.  His funeral was today, and everyone was asked to wear orange in celebration since that was his triplet color-code.  In honor of that request, tonight's picture is from your first birthday, when I mysteriously decided to dress you in orange, despite your bright-red themed Elmo birthday party...!


A comment on Owen's momma's blog included the following poem, which really spoke to me this evening.  I feel like so many friends are walking their own grief journeys right now, so I hope they find comfort in this...I know I did.


Something Beautiful Remains
The tide recedes but leaves behind bright seashells on the sand,
the sun goes down but gentle warmth still lingers on the land.
The music stops and yet it echoes on in sweet refrain…for every joy that
passes, something beautiful remains.


Peanut, keep an eye out for Owen.  He is still so young; I know he will need some guidance, playmates and friends in heaven.  I can't think of anyone better than you.  And, to everyone who reads this, please keep the Bissing family in your prayers.  His momma is hurting mightily right now, but also seems to be staying as strong as possible.  This will be a long, hard road for them. 

My sweet, loving Peanut who adored his friends, teachers, family - everyone.  I can only imagine the impact you're having in heaven.  And, I know you're watching and delighting in the giant impact you're still having on earth.  The Peanut Effect is in full force, day after day.  My hope is a part of your legacy includes our family helping to support families like the Bissings.  This journey is too hard to walk alone. And, sometimes, you just need someone who understands what it means to lose a child.  A child who is your heart.  Your present and future.  A giant piece of you.

I love you so much, sweet little Nutbrown Hare.  Sending you a big air kiss <MMMMWAH!> and a Momma Hug.  And, I know you'll share a Peanut Warrior Hug with little Owen.  I'm sure he needs it.

- Momma