Today is another hard day of three this time of year. I can't believe another year has come and gone. I am filled with so many thoughts, feelings and emotions I just don't even know how to deal with them all. I can't actually! It's another day of reflecting on really great memories, conversations and morning snuggles so long ago, but tainted with hard memories as well. They are all so fresh to me. If only I could travel back to that day three years ago, even for just a minute. To feel true happiness and joy again that isn't tainted by loss. To hear Miles' voice again. To feel his touch and smell his sweetness again. Oh what I would give for those little things right now!
I remember vividly so many details from that day and his accident. Most of all I remember thinking as I yelled to my husband "Mark, you have to help Miles," that this is not really happening. As I handed Vivian off to my sister in law for her to take away from the chaos around Miles, I remember being worried about the little cousins around. I vividly remember walking to each of them trying to comfort them and let them each know that everything was going to be okay. I was lost. It was as though I was not in my own body, and I remember a voice telling me "to wake up, this is real, this is really happening, you need to be present in this moment." But I could hardly bare the scene of my husband and then others performing CPR on our own son. It hurt more than anything to watch as I finally realized that I needed to be in that moment. So I sat still, holding his hand, just hoping for a miracle.
I will never forget the two ladies, whom I have never meet, and still don't know their faces, as they wrapped me in a blanket, hugged me and prayed out loud over and over for my son. I was so frozen in a place I still don't know. But hearing them speak of God is exactly what my soul needed. I needed God more than anything right then. We all did, especially Miles. I then realized that Miles was on his way to God at that moment. So I yelled to him over and over "Miles come back. Come back to me. Don't leave me. You have to come back to me. I need you here with me Buddy." But I think he was already speaking with God on the other side, and was torn as to where he should be.
For two LONG days Mark and I spent every second by Miles' side in the hospital. We made sure he was never alone as he fought hard at life. It never really seemed real to me. Crazy I know, but it didn't. I felt like I was just numbly going through each minute in each hour. I had no concept of time, whereabouts or others around me. I only knew his room, his nurses and his doctors. That's all I could focus on.
But it was the second night I remember coming back from the cafeteria, where we literally ate nothing. We just had to leave his room for staff changes for the hour. Just as we were making our way back into the PICU a couple I didn't even see asked if we were with the Kelly Family. Mark and I stopped in our tracks, door halfway open. I couldn't help but wonder who they were. How did they even know our last name? They asked how the little Kelly boy was doing and if we knew if he was okay. I looked up at them, and told them we were his parents, and that it was looking as though we were going to be facing a very hard decision to let him go the following day if things didn't change in the night. They expressed their deepest sympathy as they said they had been praying for him and us.
Just then I wondered why they were in the PICU waiting room. As I asked, they said their daughter was there fighting a brain issue, but that she had had a miracle happen and was doing very well. In fact they were leaving the PICU in the morning. Our conversation was brief, heartfelt and we connected as parents holding out hope for our children. It was after that moment that I found myself walking back to Miles' room and realizing how many rooms were in that department, and realizing how many were occupied. I never even noticed any of them before. My heart was full thinking of each of the children and their families holding out hope and fighting for one more day in that department. It was then I realized we weren't alone in our trials. Often we feel as though we are the only ones facing hardship, and we can't do it. But in that moment I realized we aren't alone. We are all fighting hard at an unexpected trial at times in our lives. (If you haven't yet, I'm sorry to tell you that one day you will be.) Some trials are harder than other, but none the less each one is hard for us. We need all the love and support we can get from those around us, even strangers. There truly is lifting power in prayers for others. I know, I have felt them and continue to as many of you are so kind to continue to pray for our family. And for that lifting power and support you have given us, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It has seen me through some of the hardest and darkest of times!