Where Are You?

Where are you, Baby?  It may sound silly, but I was wondering if maybe finally seeing the sun would help me find you again.  I look for you everywhere I go.  You're not in your crib.  You're not in your carseat.  You're not outside on our swing.  I have trouble even sitting on that swing now.  It used to be one of my favorite parts of our home.  I can't hear your baby voice when I sit down and pretend you're next to me, and that silence is too painful.  I can't feel your pudgy hand pulling on my sleeve because you want me to pick you up and go a little higher.  The sun didn't bring you back.  So where are you?

The truth is that the sun actually makes it harder to bear.  We were such good buddies on nice days.  Remember our bike rides around the neighborhood?  Remember that moment when I stopped and was absentmindedly looking at my phone, and you said, "mo!"?  I do.  I remember looking around, frantically, wanting someone, anyone to have heard what I'd just heard.  My baby wanted to go again, and had actually told me so.  Your face was so funny when I reached around to kiss your little cheek as tears were rolling down mine.  You had no idea what gift you'd just given me.  Thank you for that day.  It was a good day, right?  It was warm and sunny and we were together.  So, why did you leave?  Where are you?

Daddy is back on the ball field again.  Are you there?  He would really like it if you were.  Maybe you could take a ride on the gator sometime.  Please let him know you're there.  I love him and his pain is too much to bear.  I see him hurt as he watches little boys play catch in the stands.  You must know how much he loved you, and how many times he pictured a ball in your hand.  We would have shown you everything about the greatest game on earth. You really seemed to love it.  So, where are you?

Your brother and sisters are playing kickball in the backyard and riding their bikes in the driveway.  Remember the time you watched your sister hoola hoop for an hour, and you laughed so hard you fell over? I do.  I remember sitting up behind you on the concrete and laughing with you because no one could escape that belly giggle.  We laughed so much that day that my stomach hurt.  Logan, Addi, and Morgan would do anything to make you laugh.  They love you and miss you every single day.  They want you to interrupt their basketball games by scooting your walker in front of the goal.  They write your name in sidewalk chalk and ask you to come play with them.  So tell me, Baby...where are you?

I can remember the way your hand felt in mine.  I can remember the way you would "moo" every time we passed the cows on the way to Grandma and Grandpa's land.  I still stop there.  I wait to hear you, and I check the mirror to see if you're pointing out the window at your favorite "pets."  I remember that most precious sound...that sound that makes all others obsolete.  Sometimes it was said in protest, sometimes in defiance, and sometimes with such longing.   I can hear it..."Momma."  Did I ever ignore that sound?  Did I ever take it for granted?  Did I ever once fail to take you in my arms at your request?  I hope not. Because now, I would give my own life just to hear that most beautiful sound.  "Momma."  So simple, so sweet, so saturated with love.  Thank you for learning that one sound.  I know your life was difficult, and that everything you accomplished came at a cost.  I'm so grateful to you for your perseverance in learning to utter the one name that makes me feel whole..."Momma."  I love you today and every day, Easton.  I will reach up to Heaven to bring you back down.  I will swim out to the ocean to scoop you up in my arms.  I will run the length of the earth to hug you one more time.  Just please tell me...where are you?