Friday, June 1, 2012

The First of Many

I can't believe it's been a year since that painfully beautiful day. There are no words to explain the emotions of being able to hold your child in your arms for the first time, then give him to heaven. No words.

Today is a celebration of the latter, and a mourning of the former. I cry selfishly, and selfishly I wait impatiently to be with him.

This morning I woke up to the sounds of tap dancing rain on the windows, just as it had that day at the hospital. These would be the first of many tears.

The second cry came, when I read Uncle Allen's post: "Dear David, One Year Later"
http://theycallmepercival.wordpress.com/2012/06/01/dear-david-one-year-later/

Tonight we will be taking our oldest to her year-end talent show. She shared that at rehearsal another child was singing David's song. It's going to be hard for her to concentrate on her own performance, and I have to be strong and send a comforting smile and a wink when she scans the crowd to see my face. Lord give me the strength.

Today is David Allen's Day, the first of many.

-Aaron




To view David Allen's Fight and other Trisomy 18 Stories visit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2_eHFoPVjY&feature=youtu.be

Friday, February 10, 2012

The Company Meeting

I was a late arrival, but instead of sneaking to the back, I kicked the door open (in my mind) walked in with my head held high and smiling ear to ear. There were whispers throughout the front rows. As I approached the center row, I noticed what the whispers were saying "what is it?!" "well" "what is it?!"

I held up that black and white sonogram image like it was a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's place. My wife let me hand pick it - the one that had an arrow with the word "boy!" beside it. "It's a boy!" I semi-whispered back. I was going to be the father of three boys and two girls!

http://www.davidandtrisomy18.blogspot.com/2011/02/first-sonogram.html

Today, I face walking back in to that same meeting. This time I'll probably go in early and sit down in the back.  To say that life goes on would be a very real and true statement. Life does go on, but now as I anxiously await 3pm to roll around I can't help but to remember my entrance last year.

When we found out the diagnosis of David, I told God that I would go to the ends of the earth and walk through whatever he has ahead for me, but "Don't you dare back out on your promise to never leave me!"

So Father, just as you have escorted me through these times, consider this an open invitation to my company meeting today. Amen.