Through the Eyes of a Child

The last few days there have been huge clouds floating slowly by overhead.  Such big, billowing clouds moving fast enough you could see they were moving, but slow enough to watch in awe. I have watched them thinking they are so impressive.  Drew would have thought these were so cool, I thought as they floated by.  I can just picture his face.  The look of awe and wonder, like the expression captured in his final weeks by our wonderful photographer, Lynne.

It would have been similar to his expressions meeting Santa:

 Or being face to face with Elsa, behind the controls of a rocket ship, or seeing his favorite TV stars in person while in Florida:

Kids lose that sense of awe.  As they grow up, they aren't as easily impressed.  I think Molly never has been!  So I know I'd have lost that sense of wonder through a little child's eyes at some point.  But normally, you lose it gradually.  I lost it all at once, along with so much more.  I miss seeing the world through his eyes.  I miss that squeal when we passed big trucks or interesting loads on the high way.  The questions about the huge holes being dug by big equipment in construction zones on the street.  The fascination of that good 'ole garbage truck with it's magical arm that picks up the can, dumps it, and sets it back down. Even when Mom acted crazy--dancing around or making funny sounds.  Now I'm met with eye rolls and "what's wrong with you?", but to a two year old Drew, I was hilarious!  Or the fear and amusement at the sight of new animals at the fair or a zoo.   Experiencing the world through the perspective of a small child is one of the joys of parenthood, and I feel short changed.

I am confident though, that that expression is on his face everyday in Heaven.  I saw the look of wonderment and pure joy the last day we had him on Earth.  I think about that day often.  I've shared about it before, how he looked around the room, marveling at things we couldn't see. For a while I thought it was such a gift to him, to get a glimpse of where he was headed, so he wasn't afraid.  I am seeing more and more how much of a gift it was to us too.  So we could get a glimpse of his reactions, of his joy in where he was going.  So I could know that he would be okay, even if some days I would not be.  He looks at the Heavenly world all around him with that look of amazement I am sure.  And upon the very face of Jesus, with those awestruck eyes.  Most certainly way more exciting than huge clouds, garbage trucks, and pieces of giant wind turbines in flatbeds on the interstate...

For his sake, I'm glad I don't have the choice to have him back, just to experience life through his eyes again.  Because some days like this one, I'd be selfish enough to choose to.  I could have done more treatment, I could have handled the stress of the fight I tell myself, if I could just see that look on his face one more time.  But who would really be paying the price of that wish?  The bulk of the burden of suffering would surely be on Drew.  I wouldn't want to put that back on him, pull him away from Paradise and all the cool things there are for him to see, would I?  And Molly, I couldn't ask her to be in such a place of uncertainty again, always without one of us and the stressful atmosphere we tried to minimize but definitely didn't eliminate.  No, it would purely be for me if I were to be granted him back, and I couldn't do that.

We knew in December seeking more treatment in our situation would have been selfish.  We understood our situation, and that asking him to do anything more would have been for us, not for him.  It's another area where looking back we can wonder what a different decision would have given us, hoping it would have given us more time with him.   But given our circumstances, I don't think anything we could have done would have kept Drew here.  His time was up.  And thank goodness we listened to the Spirit, and not ourselves, and let him go.  Let him be free.  Free to go and explore a whole new world.  I'm sure he's glad we did.  And I am too, most days.  I can't let voices not from God tempt me to question or regret those decisions.  And I won't.

We have a busy next few weeks, full of more firsts.  We'll be headed down to Iowa for Corn Carnival--my parent's hometown's yearly celebration.  Then we'll enjoy the fourth of July here in Austin with all the festivities our town hosts.  There will be a big family reunion on my Mom's side later in July, and a road trip to Colorado in August.  So much I know I'll wish him there for.  So much that will remind me of him, so many things that I'll see and picture his wonder and amazement at.  It will hurt us deeply to not have our Drew with us physically for all these events.  But I pray I'll remember the excitement and joy that he's experiencing instead, which makes all these things pale in comparison.  A friend pointed out that all these things I wish he was a part of or got to experience, he'd choose Heaven any day if given the choice. And I guess so would we, for him. 

So enjoy your summer, Deary, we will try to enjoy ours, and when we see things you'd gaze at with wonder, we'll know you are enjoying so much more where you are now!