Unlike the snow on mountain tops which disappear slowly over time, year after year, firsts in regards to Preston have just about vanished out of my life, for good.
I believe it was my mother in law who mentioned to me on Friday, that the firsts were now all over. No more first Easter without Preston. No more first birthday. No more first Christmas. No more first time we hit the one year mark since losing him. Now there will be seconds, thirds, tenths, etc.
Perhaps the firsts aren't always the hardest. I don't know, I haven't lived the seconds of anything yet. I see it this way though - I survived all the firsts, I can survive all the rest. Will it be easy? No. Will it be easier? Who knows? I would prefer not to have gone through the firsts, or have to go through the seconds and thirds. I wish I was going through a whole different set of firsts and seconds.
Friday didn't quite mark the last of the firsts. A year ago today, Preston's memorial service was held. On Thursday (I think), is when we brought him home. In a few days time, he'll have been sitting on our dresser, unmoved, for a year. I believe, that will be the true end of all the firsts relating to losing Preston.
Does that bring me comfort? Again, maybe only in the way of having survived all the firsts. In some ways, it's also a sad realization. The realization that this really isn't a dream. My son is gone. I long for the day we are reunited in Heaven. As Krystal has told me many times, every day that goes by, means one day closer to our reunion in the kingdom of God.
Preston's memorial was incredibly difficult to plan. I'm thankful for the help we had with making decisions. Thankful for the things that were said to us, because we couldn't see past the fog of having just lost our son. I'd originally wanted to bury Preston, so that we could go visit him as often as we wanted. Someone then mentioned to me, what if you move? What if you move out of state one day? Perhaps, get an urn, for now, and make a decision like that later. It had never even crossed my mind that life might take us elsewhere one day. We just don't know. Don't make life changing decisions for at least one year. That was another piece of advice, from someone who'd lost a daughter. I think we had broached the subject of possibly moving out of our house - which upset me terribly at the time. Actually, it still does. I don't want to move, ever.
The memorial was a painful event to go through, but I am ever so thankful we did have one. Preston's life touched so many lives, the ones of our friends and family. A year later, I believe he's touched hundreds more lives - in Heaven and on Earth.
On that day last year, seeing the support we received on such short notice, showed us how much Preston's love had spread all around us. The support of those who attended, of those who helped us plan this memorial, and of those who you could just tell wished they could have been there was just absolutely overwhelming. Thank you all <3.
I never sent out thank yous for those who attended, for those who wanted to come. I wanted to, but didn't have the words to express my gratitude. I hope you all know how much it meant to us to share our son with you, whether you had gotten the chance to meet him, hold him, love him. I hope the stories that were told, helped you get to know him a little better. I hope it opened up your heart to letting him in at a later time.
It was a memorial like no other. I haven't attended many memorials or funerals, but usually, this is an event where you celebrate someone's long life. Where you applaud their accomplishments, where you laugh at the best memories you shared. Preston's life was so short, there wasn't much to celebrate. There were memories, but nothing that compares to a lifetime of memories. Nonetheless everyone who spoke paid a wonderful homage to my son. I wasn't strong enough to talk to everyone. I don't know that I'd be today. My "writing" voice is much louder than my "speaking" voice. It is much easier for me to write than it is to speak. It is much easier to keep writing, even if tears fall down my cheeks, than to try and get through a speech, when I can't hold back the tears.
The day before the memorial, I wrote about my son, and my father in law volunteered to read it to all those in attendance. I'm ever so grateful for my "voice" being heard that day. He was great. He even used all the tones I would have used as he read it.
So on this note, below is the "speech" I wrote for Preston's memorial. I share it with you today, as the firsts related to the loss of Preston perform a disappearing act...
I don't have the strength to go up and talk about my son today, but I still
want the world to know the following:
He was the best baby a mother and father could ever ask for. He was the most beautiful baby I've ever
seen, and I'm most likely jaded since I was his mother, but I still truly
believe that to be true. He was also the
easiest baby; he cried only when he was really hungry, when he was wet and when
he was really tired. He was usually
really hungry in the morning after a good night's sleep. He was often wet, even with just a drop, and
he just had to have a new diaper. He got
cranky when he would get really tired, kind of like his dad. But it didn't take much to make those things
better. A bottle, a new diaper and
rocking him to sleep. I loved rocking
him and falling asleep was sometimes instanteneaous. Even though I could use the sleep, I
sometimes spent an extra hour holding him, just because.
He was such a happy child. He loved
to smile, laugh and giggle in his own unique way. He lit up our world. There was no such thing as having a bad day
anymore, because he made everything bad go away just as soon as you saw his
face. He loved his bouncy chair, and his
swing. He liked to go out for walks,
just as long as it wasn't too cold or too bright. Sounds just like his mama. He didn't love tummy time, but he did it
nonetheless and did a great job. He rolled
over at 15 weeks (or 10 weeks if you adjust his age). I never got to see it, although he almost did
it for me last week. He turned all the
way to his side, and then right back to his tummy.
From the moment he came home, he loved to look at the beautiful painting of
Boulder we have up on our wall. It is
full of colors and he would just stare at it during his feedings. He liked to look at the Cubs blanket that
sits on Daddy's recliner. He loved to
watch Big Cats, hockey and baseball with us.
All that movement intrigued him so.
He loved when we would blow on his belly or on his feet. A big smile erupted on his face. He enjoyed "this little piggy" for
a few weeks and lately loved when I would pull my tongue out at him and make
funny noises. I never heard him laugh as
much and so loud. It was the most
wonderful sound in the world. I miss it
so much. He was such a smart little boy,
pulling his tongue right back at me.
From the time he was born, he had an affinity to want to crawl. I would place him on my chest and he would
lift his head. Such a strong boy. He also crawled up my chest several
times. On his tummy, he would try to crawl
though it looked more like he was a swimming like a frog. He would inch up though. Hard to believe something so small can do
something so amazing.
He had recently started grabbing things more and more. He liked to hold his onesie when we changed
him, and even started grabbing at his diaper.. that could have gotten
messy. Just a few days ago, he started
grabbing his feet like they were a new toy.
He liked music; his soft lullabies and the music I like as well. He was so close to being able to sit on his
own. His neck was getting so strong.
He was my little fighter. He made it
into this world despite hard circumstances.
He fought every day in the NICU to get stronger to be able to come
home. Despite his small size, he reached
milestones just like other babies. Some
milestones took longer to reach, while others were so ahead of the curve. He was more special and changed our lives
more than I could have ever thought possible.
I'm so thankful to have known such a perfect little boy. My heart is broken, but he will always be in
my heart. We have a true angel watching
over us now. I promise to talk to him
every day and remind him that I love him.
No one will ever replace him or have more of an impact than he had on my
life. I am forever grateful to have
known him, even if it was for way too short of a time.
Mama loves you buddy. You're her
sweet pea, her cutie patudie, her big boy, and her lovie.
I didn't ever want to say goodbye, but I had to. I will miss you and love you forever.
