Life and Death, Interpreted.

Clearly our family has not been the same in days, and while we are all closer now than ever, there is no ignoring the fact that we're missing someone. I just want to be close to Scott, Sheila and Peyton as they grieve...my heart breaks for them.

We had a Celebration of Parker's Life yesterday, and were joined by over 700 people at the Bellbrook Middle School. Some gave funny tributes, and some brought the crowd to muffled sobs. No matter what the story, they all spoke to exactly who Parker was. Friends of the family who were not close to Parker himself said that they left feeling like they knew him, like they had received a message. That, to me, meant we did it how he would have liked us to.

Carson stayed home with a babysitter during all the activities yesterday.
I talked to him about this today, and here's what he said:

M: Carson, you know Parker...
C: Yes.
M: Honey, Parker is up in heaven now.

At this point I'm crying, so he's touching my face...very serious and almost hesitant. He takes a long time to think before each of his answers.

M: We won't get to play with him again.
C: Yes. We will.
M: Do you know what heaven is?
C: ...Yes!! (smiling)
M: Do you remember what heaven was like before you came to mommy's tummy?
C: (far away stare)....Yes!!
M: What was it like?
C: ...Ice cream cones. So good!
M: (laughing) Are you being serious with your Momma, Carson?
C: (with a serious, sweet stare right into my eyes) Mommy, God is there. It smells like ice cream cones everywhere.

M: is Parker there?
C: (with a faraway gaze and finally, a smile.) Yes. We see him again!

we hugged, and off he went.
--

Indeed, I think we will see Parker again.

I would never make this up; that would be cruel. And maybe Carson is just teasing, but trust a Mother's intuition—this kid was tapping into some primal memory. I mean, he was just there 2.5 years ago. I say that's a solid report.

Went back through some vacation photos this week and found this one of Parker. I think I'll frame it for Scott and Sheila, to remind them of what they have to look forward to.