Sometimes It's the Littlest Things
So many things in life can bring us joy. It'd be insane and impossible to list all joyful things here, so I won't even bother to try. What I can say about joy is that sometimes it is the littlest things that create the biggest joys of our lives.
It's been many years since my sons were killed. Although dealing with their deaths wasn't easy at first, what I found while going through the process of grieving is that even death can't take away the joy they gave me.
My oldest son Brett was only 38 months old when this incident I'm about to share with you occurred. And yet even at 38 months, the joy he gave was as huge as the universe itself.
Brett had been ill with a particularly nasty viral infection. Not only was this infection impossible to treat with antibiotics, it was also highly contagious. Due to that contagion Brett and I found ourselves sequestered to our home for a long period of time. Keeping a highly active and curious three-year-old happy while contained within a small two-bedroom home is like trying to cage the spirit of the wind. It's impossible.
By week two both of us were more then anxious to be back out in the land of the living. As anyone with children can tell you, when they are sick they are at their worst in so many ways. Oftentimes the effects of the illness is but one thing you must contend with as a parent. You must also help them through their fever-induced crankiness, their boredom and the overall moodiness sick children exhibit.
Just as I was at my wits' end about dealing with my cooped up child, an idea struck me. The doctor had said that Brett should not be allowed outside or in public in order to keep from spreading his illness, but he hadn't said Brett had to remain indoors. After a few quickly placed calls, I set my idea in motion. That night under a brilliantly black sky, Brett and I started out on a walk.
Actually, walk is the wrong term. Brett raced excitedly to and fro while I carefully followed behind him ensuring his safety. He was in his glory. Once again he was outside playing and this time he was doing it under the stars. For him, nothing could be finer! Watching his mood brighten by the minute renewed my own weary soul.
For over an hour we walked, raced, ran, hurried and scampered. Finally his illness and the fact that it was late at night caught up with him. Hand in hand we began a leisurely walk home. It was at this point that my son began asking the questions we parents love so much. He inquired as to why the grass wasn't green at night. How come the shadows went to bed, and "Momma why is the moon right up there above the tree?"
I had chosen a spectacular summer night for us to go on our nocturnal adventure. The Milky Way and all of her brilliant stars shimmered in the sky. The moon was a bright, glorious sliver blanketed in the deepest of black. By the time we were walking home, it did appear as if that stunning moon had perched itself just above the small tree tops along the end of our road. While we walked, I answered my son's questions to the best of my abilities. Brett listened intently and finally he became silent.
I had thought there was nothing better then those quiet moments while walking home. The warm summer winds gently teased our hair. Brett's strong but tiny hand was tucked neatly in mine and his eyes were so filled with wonder that I didn't think I could get any happier. Of course, as my son was about to teach me, I thought wrong.
"Momma, I sorry I so ucky sick." Brett's small voice pierced the night.
"It's okay, little man. It's not your fault."
"But my ucky sick took your days away." Brett lamented. I couldn't help but smile down at him. I was proud that even at three years old he knew enough to care for others.
"Yeah, but your ucky sick gave me this pretty night!" I offered his sad eyes. My offering must have worked because suddenly his eyes glittered and gleamed with more life then I had seen in them in weeks.
Instantly Brett let go of my hand and began running down the last bit of private roadway before our house. As he ran, his left hand reached high up into the sky and he jumped with all the might that a three-year-old can muster. I laughed as I watched him.
"What are you doing, silly man?"
Brett stopped and only half turned to face me. I couldn't see his face, just his silhouette against the small trees, right below the moon. "I gonna catch you the moon, momma, so you can always have this pretty night," he announced from his heart. And with that, my sick little man who was too contagious to be out around others proceeded to jump and run and grasp at the beautifully low-hung moon.
I share this story of one of my most joyful moments because as I sat down to write my column this month I couldn't help but think of two of Mosaic Minds editors. Recently one of our editors, Beverly, delivered a child. All of us here at Mosaic Minds were thrilled for her. To begin a new family is a wondrous and joyful thing. And not only has Beverly added to her family, but Mosaic Minds founder Carrie is pregnant. As I write this column, she is beginning the last steps a woman takes before her first child arrives into the world. Both of these ladies are fine women, and I want to extend my personal congratulations to them both.
As I said when I began this article, sometimes it is the littlest things that create the biggest joys in our lives. I want to welcome both Carrie and Beverly's little ones into this world by saying that I have no doubt that each child will bring many, many joys, and great ones at that!