Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Butterfly

Tender feelings today, as I walk around my house and think about my son.
He was my everything for the past two years.
And now he's gone.
And my house is so quiet.
Pictures and flowers decorate my house from the funeral.
I wish I could hold and kiss him.
I wish I could smell his sweet little head one more time.

But there is a sweetness, knowing he is finally safe.
Knowing no one can hurt him.
No one will poke him with needles ever again.
No more medicines or seizures.
No more annoying nasal cannula.
No more gasping for air.
No more being tied to cords and machines.
That hard part of his existence is over.
And I know he is not gone.
He is still here.
He has just changed.
Like a butterfly, he has morphed into something more.
He is free from that horrible cocoon that held him so tight.
But pain fills my soul when I think about cuddling him.
It was too short.
I hate degenerative brain diseases.
On the morning of his funeral my Aunt Edris found me and presented me with a tiny box.
A box that had once belonged to my Grandma.
And she handed the box to me and told me, Grandma had asked her to give me this.
 Grandma had told her to give the black butterfly pin to Mary Gay,
17 years ago, before her death.
And Edris had misplaced the pin, but found it again one day, recently.
And she remembered when she saw it that it was intended for me.
And I opened the box and saw the black butterfly pin.
I had seen my Grandma Wanda wear it many times.
And now it was mine.
Seventeen years after her death, Grandma Wanda sent me the message
that Bradley was flying free from the pains of this world.
And that Bradley is not gone.
He has just changed.
Bradley the boy who changed everything about us,
is now free to change himself.
And he is now honorably released from his mission on earth.
I'm very grateful Grandma sent me that message on the morning of his funeral.
Proud of Bradley and his completed mission.
He is my butterfly.