Monday, September 14, 2009
The following post is inspired by a very close neighbour/friend of ours who watched her 4 year old son get on the school bus for the very first time last week. What she said as the bus pulled away with all of those tiny, smiling faces waving back, has been echoing in my head ever since.
We both stood in tears at that bus stop as my oldest son took her son's hand and walked him up those big steps to what would be his first day of Junior Kindergarten. As the bus pulled away, this neighbour/friend looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "and there goes your heart... on the bus."
I have been thinking about how so very true that statement is. There are so many times in our life where our heart is seemingly ripped from our chest and then neatly (or not so neatly) tucked back in again. Our children are our hearts. They represent such an important part of us that those kinds of moments and milestone leave our hearts reeling on the sidelines.
My husband and I have experienced so many of those moments with our two oldest children. When they first locked eyes with us, when they flashed that first smile, when they started to walk and talk, when they began school. There are so many firsts, firsts that will just continue to cause our hearts to beat out of our chest.
Saying goodbye to Nicholas gives "and there goes your heart" a drastically different meaning. Handing him over to the nurse after our precious time with him was nothing short of unbearable. How the Human Spirit can survive something like that is beyond the imagination. My heart went out our hospital room door that day, in the arms of a loving, caring stranger, but, nonetheless, a stranger. He was no longer in his mommy and daddy's arms where he belonged. No longer safe. No longer alive on this earth with us. I honestly believe that my heart literally left my body that day, with my son, with all of the hopes and dreams we had for him.
Of course my heart was found again. Not all of it. So much of my love, my protection, my pride went with Nicholas that special day. But some of it was found. Some of it was tucked (not so neatly) back into my chest. How could it not be? That is where I carry my precious boy with me... forever and a day.