read my first post on this story here. read the backstory here.
Yesterday (well, Wednesday - I meant to post this yesterday) I found some time in the day to buy three red balloons. Three to symbolize Ryan, his mom Jacqui, and his dad Dan. Three for the number of birthdays his parents got to have with him here on Earth. Three red balloons.
I attached the hashtag to each balloon with notepaper and packing tape so that wherever they fell, they'd spread word of remembrance. Then I went into my backyard, said a little prayer, and set them free...
I watched them three fly into the sky until I could no longer see them. ♥
This story has had such a profound impact on me. I've been thinking about my future A LOT lately (year 29 has hit me funny) and have been utterly afraid and frightened that I'll never get my nuclear family. For a while there - and even a little still - I've lost the belief that I will or even if I deserve it (like Jen Arnold says here). Then I see images of this beautiful family, and a tiny bit of hope is restored. Something to wish and strive for is brought back - even if ever so slightly - I know that's a spark that can ignite a flame of hope. Then to read about how it all came to an abrupt end...it's crushing, that something like that could happen. What if (<-- how every anxiety attack starts) I finally do get the family I've always dreamed of and the child I've wanted to be a mom to since I was 4 years old, only for it to be unfairly snatched away one day? Really, what if?!?!
How one makes peace with that, I don't know. I'm praying for strength for Jacqui and her family. I just don't understand how something like this can happen to a family so deserving of that little boy, and a little boy so deserving of them. There are no words to aid in understanding. Only sadness. Palpable sadness that changes you.
