reminders

daily, i am reminded of a life that could have been—for me and for michael and for calvin. daily, i must resist the urge to think, "what if" about a million and one circumstances: the lost conversations about life, love, the mysteries of the universe, that i might have had with my child. the lost moments of a proud parent watching their child excel at sports, theater, music, drawing, writing, art, science. the loss of seeing my handsome boy make friends and perhaps bring home a sweetheart. the loss of him going places on his own, whether just down the street to a friend's house, out to the point, or to another city or country. the loss of going for walks with my child on the beach or in the woods or up a mountain to linger perched on an outcropping or in the shade of a tree, just being still as the wind sweeps back our hair.

 

but none of this will ever be, nor will the particular joys that come from being a grandparent.

 

but, calvin has brought so many profoundly deep feelings, so much richness and love and heartache and meaning to our lives. and, when i least expect it, something simple he does—the way he looks at me or the smile on his face—or something we do together, like a pleasant trip to the grocery store, reminds me that what i am doing—loving and taking care of someone like him—is the most important, meaningful thing in the world.