Spring

Spring is finally here. It was just over two weeks ago that we had 9 inches of snow. But the grass is finally starting to turn green, the trees and bushes are beginning to bud, we finally can open the windows, and enjoy the warm sunshine on our deck.

It's been great for Molly to get outside too. After a few days of going to the park, playing in the backyard, and going for walks, I can tell that this is what she needed in this last month of the never-ending-winter we had here in Minnesota, as her attitude was tough to deal with at times. I think we all are happier now that the freeze has broke and life is blossoming again.

The first warm days in the spring, as I've written about before, feel so good after a harsh winter. I'm convinced its because of the harsh winter that it feels ever more glorious. I've likened it to the joy in the normal things that you find after trials in life have passed. After the circumstances finally break in the winter of a big struggle, you are so appreciative of the little things, happy for the "warmth" and relief of easier times. The bad days make the good ones seem so much better in comparison.

It's what I was looking forward to during Drew's treatment--the "spring" after our winter of such suffering. How amazing "normal" life would feel like after this great trial we were in. But actually, we learned it was really right in front of us, in the everyday. There was joy to be embraced, warmth to be felt, even before the winter of suffering was behind us if we chose to see it.

I wrote an article for a small publication out of Iowa detailing our story through this perspective, how we learned to see the joy, the "springtime" in each day, even before the thaw we hoped and prayed would come. It's my first officially published piece!

Pretty exciting. It's the first part in a 3 part series. I've submitted the second part, and will begin working on the final part soon.

But the time of changing seasons also brings with it a host of emotions in my current season of grief. Last year as each a new season broke for the first time without my baby boy, I had to grieve all new ways that I missed him. Things that he was there for the year before, that we enjoyed together as a family. In this second year, it isn't the first time he's not been here on that first warm day, but it still hurts just as much.

Kids love being outside. Especially little boys. I watched Drew get into everything, push around whatever he could find in the warm months of the year. He wasn't a risk taker, he was afraid of tall slides or being pushed too high on the swings, but he always wanted to be part of the action. He would climb right in to have Molly drive them around in the Gator, hanging on tight.

As Austin comes to life again after the long winter, all the memories of my boy playing outside seem just as fresh as the buds (even though I only had two real years of them). I see all these little boys everywhere and I find myself trying to picture what my life would be like if I had a four year little old boy too.

He'd be driving the Gator himself by now I'm sure (probably fighting with Molly now over who's turn it is). Maybe learning to ride a bike alongside Molly this spring. I'm sure the playset would be getting much more use than it is now, as I look out at it in the mid-morning sunshine, empty. No little boy climbing up the ladder, or hanging from the handle bars. Just a lawn mower Drew loved to push around that Molly left out from the weekend...

This was HIS time of year. He didn't like cold weather, was not the first out to play in the snow. But when it was nice--he'd make a break for his shopping cart every time we got home to push it up and down the sidewalks if I didn't catch him. In fact, I went to find a still shot of him and the shopping cart, but all I have are videos--he didn't sit still long enough to take a photo!

Oh I miss that little boy. As the weather brings up all these memories, and the little boys at the park make me envision a life that was never meant to be, I miss him. I miss his smile. His playful/teasing attitude. I miss his energy, his clowning around. I miss his gentle touch, his snuggles before bed. I miss seeing him interacting with others, and watch the joy he brought to them. I'm left again asking God why, why did it have to be this way...

In this second year, I can see what I was warned about. Passing the one year mark doesn't magically make it easier. The heartache hasn't changed much. I'm just more used to it. I am just better at handling it, and still being able to function. I remember the first nice day in the spring last year, and how I just could not stop crying. I can stop myself this year, but it still hurts, I feel just as incomplete.

I've been able to function though, and even more than that. It's been a joy to see Molly learn to ride a bike without training wheels. It's been an experience--let me tell you. She's a pretty determined, headstrong girl. She gets frustrated and mad before she gets something! But the wonder in her eyes as she rode for the first time by herself was worth the tears. It was just like when she read her first book! She's growing in so many ways right now, it's amazing to witness and be a part of.

Sometimes I'm tempted to think we never got that spring I wrote about, that we waited so patiently for during the winter of cancer treatment with our two year old. Instead, it seems we've been plunged into a new winter of grief. But since we learned how to find the joy, the spring, in each day during that winter of treatment, we are able to find the joy in each day of this winter too--like the first spin around the block on two wheels.

And the glorious sunshine, the warm breezes this week after such a long winter for us here in the Bold North, makes me all the more hopeful for the ultimate spring. That's what we're waiting for this time, I've decided. When the winter that is this life with all it's heartaches is over, and our souls finally thaw from the struggles we've face. How glorious God's glory will feel, even better than the sunshine! How comforting that warm Heavenly breeze will be indeed the day the brokenness in each of is completely healed. 

Drew's already in that springtime. His spring has come, and I'm sure he's enjoying every minute of it! Running with his new pack of friends, playing at the parks, driving gators...maybe even pushing a new shopping cart, up and down the sidewalks of Heaven ❤ (I found a still of him!)