I have mixed feelings about social distancing and Covid-19. On one hand, I've found myself wishing this would have come last year so that I could have been at home with him each day during his last few months. On the other hand, I would have been so incredibly worried about his health and safety.
I have a different lens than most people. I've seen firsthand what a respiratory illness can do. RSV, a very simple and common virus, caused so many hospital stays, it's ridiculous. I can't imagine how quickly coronavirus could have ended his life. I've seen my child intubated, dependent on a ventilator, receiving CPT and breathing treatments, and heavily sedated. Watching the news sometimes triggers memories of those worst moments in the ICU.
Coronavirus has a lot of people thinking about those little things we take for granted. I started noticing those things long before social distancing became a thing. Yesterday, my Timehop shared a great, yet bittersweet, memory with me.
This was the last time Lennon got to sit outside and just enjoy the fresh air. It was a little chilly, and I was worried that he would get too cold, but I'm so glad I took him out. I had no idea that this would be his last opportunity. He used to sit with dad and me while we drank coffee almost every morning. Miss Nikki would take him out and do his stretches with him that first summer. It was something that was just a part of our routine and I miss it so much.
Since my last post, I have be acutely aware of how many pictures are part of "the last pictures." I noticed, even then, how many times I was passing up opportunities to take his picture because he didn't look like his best self. We could see his pain and struggles, so that's not how we wanted to remember him.
This picture is one of my favorites, but when it showed up a couple of weeks ago, all I could think about was: "If we'd only known that there were 2 months left with him." Life is hard without him. There's a hole in all of our hearts, and even though things are going to grow around that hole, sometime a hard freeze (like the one we're experiencing outside) can stunt that growth.
I miss the little things...
I miss hearing his name, rubbing his feet, and washing his hair. I miss helping him choose his playlists, him giving Nikki dirty looks when she made him work, and the way he'd smile when dad walked through the door. I miss his superhero outfits and always being shocked by how BIG he was getting. I even miss his alarms and prepping his meds sometimes. (I still can't bring myself to clean the ceiling where one of his 60 ml syringes splattered everywhere.) I miss hearing his siblings say "baby brother." Now that we're home there is a lot more time to get lost in that grief, which is far from a little thing.
As always, share your memories of our little guy with us. Send us pictures if you have them. Remember to be kind to yourselves and to think about the well-being of others as we face this new virus. Keep in mind the special littles like Lennon. Wear a mask, wash your hands, stay connected with your loved ones. We will get through this, even if it means there will be a new normal. That's a "little thing" that our family has grown quite accustomed to.
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