Posts Tagged ‘bug’

Next time your nose itches . . .

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

You never know what might be up there:

For Bug

Wednesday, October 21st, 2009

For little more than a year, I've been friends with Tanis, a blogger who's famous in Canada, which is kind of like being rich in Romania. I mean, I guess some of you may have heard of her outside of the Great White North, but mainly because I've written about her several times before. This time, though, it's a bit more serious. It's about today, and what today will be like for my friend.

Tanis, I'm sorry. I didn't know who you were four years ago when your son Bug died. I wasn't there to see you glassy-eyed, barely functioning, enduring a flow of well-wishers and supporters, and then struggling to survive when that flow dried up. I wasn't there to sit with you quietly, offering nothing more than the solace of another person's company.

I have never experienced loss on a level even close to yours. I can only try to use what I do know, from knowing you and being your friend, to offer my love and support. I know that Bug was loved deeply by his mother and his father and his brother and his sister. I know that he will live forever within your heart. And I know that even though the pain will never go away, your fond memories of his time on this earth will grow stronger until the hurt is more bearable. And that doesn't mean that your love was or is or will ever be any less.

Today is going to be a hard day. Today you will be mourning one son while celebrating the birthday of your newly adopted son. How do you do both? How do you separate a celebration of a lost life and a celebration of a new one?

If I can be presumptuous, let me answer that. You don't. Every time you embrace Jumby, every step you take while carrying him, every minute you spend with him at the doctor's, helping him to grow stronger, you are celebrating life. You are living life to the fullest, taking that love that Bug had for you and you had for him, and investing it in the world. In Jumby. In Fric and Frac. And that's the best way to remember your son that I can think of.

I wasn't there to sit with you then, but I'm here now. And I encourage everyone who is reading this to sit quietly for a moment for Tanis. And then take your love and invest it. Love always pays dividends.