December 9, 2020 – The missing doesn’t have to hurt

Today would have marked our angel boy’s six month “birthday.”  It’s hard to believe that six months ago I was giving birth to our little sweetheart and we were meeting him for the first time.  Sometimes it feels like yesterday, and other times it feels like a lifetime ago.  Time has been such an interesting thing for us lately.  It’s our best friend and somehow also our worst enemy.  What a whirlwind six months it’s been.

Today was such a beautiful, sunshine-y day and it was nice to get outside for a walk with my boy.  Our family had kind of a rough morning, so it did my heart good to be in the light and (December) warmth of the sun. 

Our sweet Isaac and Zoey were struggling today, so we ended up keeping them home from preschool.  It breaks my mama heart to see that they are grieving in their own way without the maturity or reasoning or even words to process it all.  We have a Christmas tree in our bedroom that our sweet babies helped us decorate with blue ornaments and pictures of Benny – we call it our “Benny tree.”  Today when Isaac was struggling, I found him in our room on the floor next to the tree, just crying.  He was upset about something, but being near the Benny tree was what helped him feel better.  Our angel boy brought so much light to all of our lives, and I’m grateful to know that even when I can’t comfort our sweet Isaac and Zoey, Benny can.  Our Savior can.  I’m glad we can make space for that.

As I walked this afternoon while my sweet babies napped, I felt my Benny so close.  He always uplifts me and I find myself smiling so much as we walk together.  Sunshine and warmth remind me of him, too.  I don’t remember the last time I was able to take a walk outside on December 9 in Utah without putting on snow gear.  Today felt unseasonably warm (if 45 degrees can be considered warm!) and the sunshine really was beautiful.  As I felt the sunlight today, I liked to think that it was my sweet Benny, beaming down on me from heaven.  Light will always remind me of him.  I’m grateful for that.

I found myself telling Benny I missed him and that I was sad that we weren’t taking pictures today to celebrate that he’s six months old.  But, as my sweet boy does, I felt my heart calmed as I had a very distinct thought – the missing doesn’t have to hurt.

As I pondered that thought more, I wasn’t sure I understood.  Missing in and of itself implies hurt, doesn’t it?  Is it possible to miss someone, or something, and not feel pain?  How can I miss Benny but not be sad?  Thinking about him not being in our home makes me sad.  Realizing he won’t be here for his first Christmas makes my heart ache in a way I didn’t know was possible.  Knowing we’ll never get to see him grow up brings me to tears.  I miss him more than words can express.  How can that not hurt?

Well, the answer is I’m not sure.  But I sure do like the idea.  Because I want to miss Benny.  I don’t want to forget him.  But then that made me think – is it the missing I want, or the not wanting to forget?  Because I think those are different.  So I thought about it more.  And then I looked down and saw my hand.  A hand that is scarred in a pretty unique way.  And the thought started to make a little more sense.

In November 2013, I burned my hand while I was making caramel.  It was pretty gruesome and I had third degree burns from the boiling caramel that literally burned a hole right through the top half of my hand.  I was treated in the University of Utah hospital’s burn unit, and by some miracle (which I know is attributed to the healing power of the Lord’s priesthood) my hand healed itself and I never had to have surgery.  The doctors were amazed to find the healing had begun the day we were to schedule the skin graft surgery, and their amazement continued as within one month, I was able to have my bandages and dressing removed for good. 

As I looked down at my hand today, I remembered the pain I felt that night of the burn.  I remember the pain that continued to come each day I had to go in during the ensuing weeks and have the bandages removed and the wound cleaned and re-dressed.  I’ll never forget that experience or the pain I felt.  It was deep and intense and some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life.  But now?  It doesn’t hurt.  My hand is scarred, but there is no pain.  In fact, when I see my hand now, I can’t help but think how grateful I am for the amazing power of our human bodies and their ability to heal themselves.  I’m grateful that I still have a fully functioning hand, with no negative impacts of the scarring.  I’m grateful I can type, and write, and play the piano, and do all the things I could before the burn and which my doctors weren’t sure I’d ever be able to do again. And that made me realize that it’s possible to remember in a way that doesn’t hurt.  And not only in a way that doesn’t hurt, but in a way that fuels gratitude and joy.

I always want to remember Benny.  I never want to forget my sweet boy or what he means to our family.  His light will always shine brightly in our lives.  I never want that to change.  But, I do recognize that I can’t live in the pain forever.  I don’t think I could survive if I had to feel this level of pain indefinitely.  Somehow, just like my hand, I believe that I’ll be able to heal from this and move forward.  Not move on, as I mentioned in yesterday’s post, but move forward.  Somehow in a way that doesn’t hurt but in a way that leads me to gratitude and joy.  Joy for the five months we had with our sweet boy and the memories we made.  Gratitude for the faith that assures us we’ll see our Benny again. 

And that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten Benny.  I think that’s what I worry about most.  It’s almost like I want to stay in the pain because if I don’t, it’s an indication that somehow I’ve forgotten my angel boy.  But that’s not true.  My sweet boy—and my own hand—reminded me of that today.  And reminded me of the One who also has scars on His hands and will strengthen and bring us peace in the midst of our pain. Just like I can look down at my hand and absolutely remember the experience that caused the scar without feeling the pain now, I look forward to the day when I can think about and remember my sweet boy without feeling the unfathomable pain of his loss. 

That day isn’t today.  And I don’t think it will be tomorrow.  Probably not even the day after that.  But, I do have hope that it will come.  Because I have hope in something more than me.  I have hope in a loving Savior who sacrificed on my behalf so I can be with my sweet Benny forever.  I have hope in loving Heavenly Parents who designed a plan and a journey just for me that would help me get there.  So tonight as I think about my sweet Benny, I sure do miss him.  I don’t think that will ever change.  But the pain maybe feels a little bit less as I put things in perspective and realize it’s possible to miss my angel boy without it hurting.  And that I can remember him in all the most wonderful ways without it being painful.  And for that I am truly grateful.

Missing doesn’t have to hurt. Remembering can lead to gratitude and joy.  What perfectly beautiful reminders from my perfect angel boy.