The last piece I had of him was an otherwise empty plate but for a huge pile of ketchup left in the sink. He always squeezed on so much it looked like a joke when he was dishing up (but was for real), which is why I bought it in bulk at Costco. He ate a breaded chicken burger, then at some point headed out the door for the last time. He dug into the lemon cake I had made too, with frosting. My heart remembers these last things on today of all days. I could reminisce on the past and drone on about his last’s….all the lasts that I didn’t know we were having. The things I didn’t pay attention to because I did not know how significant they were. I can be caught in regret, in terror and the painful memories of that day and I have been doing so for years. Most days I feel paralyzed in a tunnel of grief. But today, I want to remember what IS... what Wyatt is and will BE forever because he is not gone forever. I want to remember the Wyatt he was and is currently while he lives a new life in heaven.
He had an adoration for candy and sugar of all kinds and would sneak the absolute most amount he could when we weren’t watching. It didn’t matter if he was in treatment for chronic illness, supposed to be gluten-free/dairy-free, his love of yummy food never disappointed. He LOVED his sweets. His heart was huge. He was never aloof with others and probably got some of them in trouble from joining in the fun he was always having. His heart loved fun and laughter. He also loved justice though – he lived far from a simple or inauthentic life of skimming surface waters. He ran deep through and through. He got baptized on his own accord because he “wanted to follow Jesus.” He was a warrior through all of life and had plans…so many plans that he wrote about. Camping with the boys, selling things so he could put more toward his goals; he loved guns, music, nature and his one-wheel. He touched people’s lives because he loved. He served at church camp and looked out for others. He was loud and lived with intensity. He was always difficult to hold onto, because his heart and his will were so strong. He was the one that would consistently write me notes and sign it from “the boys.” He just saw past what others would notice. He and his brothers were the three amigo's - their bond lives past anything time apart could break. He was and always is – our precious boy.
These are just outline points that give a faint picture of Wyatt, not even close to the whole story. His duck call is one that I always asked him not to make (it was incessant and stopped short of being hilarious after a while, especially because it was hard on his vocal cords), but my heart longs to hear it endlessly now. Those who know him will hear that sound reverberate in their ears even now. People at parks would stop to look up at the sky and be so confused when they did not see a feather flocked creature flying by. The memory can still make me laugh even through tears. Right before he went home to heaven, he bought a very stark white sweatshirt that I knew would not stay white, but he was developing his own new style - coming out of the "I just rolled out of the woods" phase and looking pretty adorable while trying out a new polished version of self, haircut and all. He had a new pair of Vans tennis shoes because the ones he wore had holes in them, but the new pair would sit in his room and he would prefer his old pair time and again. I think he had worn them in and loved them or maybe just wanted to retain the newness of the other ones. Both pair still sit in his closet upstairs.
I can never capture in words or on paper the love we have for him, or the life he lived. There are some things only the beat of a heart can communicate.
I
could not keep him. God gave him, and
God ordained every minute and hour of his life. It does not and has not ever seemed fair that
it was finished today, five years ago.
It will never be okay with me, though I have come to the point at times
of being able to hold my hands out in the surrender of ignorance. I will never fully understand the love of God
until that day I get to see with my heavenly eyes how much God loves Wyatt, with a love so much more than mine, and that is unfathomable. The human part of me, my mommy heart, will
never understand how God could see fit to give and then take away. My humanity
will always cry out at the way this world is because evil was not supposed to
be present. We were not meant for the separation
of death, and I will never try to fake acceptance of that on this earth. I long for things to be
different, and I can’t ever imagine a day I can say with full integrity “Thy
will be done.” My heart will always long
for my way, and that includes my son living on this earth with us. I have to be
honest that even in trusting the Lord and even in believing His goodness when the
current reality says otherwise, I still
wish that things were different. There
is no part of me that wouldn’t change that day…no matter how anyone could try
to find the silver lining. I don’t think
any parent can truly embrace a “silver lining” of loss.
But yet when I reach the very bottom of that trench of truth, through tears and much fight, my heart will hope. It will hope in the absolute unshakeable, unchanging truth of God’s word, and the foundation He has set for us in the reality of Jesus Christ. Because he came and conquered death through the giving of his own life, I can have the assurance that Wyatt’s life is not lost. He is forever kept and forever made whole. Jesus is my anchor to the life I must live here, and the life I look forward to in Heaven; He is the anchor through every cresting wave of grief.
Wyatt,
you are so loved. You are missed…endlessly…daily. I have no idea how it has been five
years. I keep saying it feels like we
went through a wormhole in time, and it was just yesterday. Life is a blur that misses you every
moment. We live in absence of your
presence, but you are so with us in our hearts, always. You and your life that continues past this
earthly existence is never forgotten. I
can’t wait for that day that we will be reunited, and I can hug you and my heart can be at peace again. We
always hold a place for you…an aching vast hole…but we live with an end in sight. I love you with all my heart and there are
just not enough words for the ache to express this pain without you. Thank you for bringing laughter and joy into
our lives. I am so glad that in the absence of hugging you in my arms, I can know for certainty that you are with Jesus. And someday we will be there with you, too.
<3
