Moments with Marri

I've been wrestling.  My son died 6 weeks ago.  Days have already turned into weeks.  Soon, weeks will turn into months, and months will turn into years.  So many people ask me, "How are you?"  I understand that the question is more like saying 'hello' to most.  It is simply a greeting.  It's just that this question forces me to confront my reality.  The answers I have rehearsed for years upon years don't suit me anymore.  My honest answers are too raw, too painful to expose in a simple greeting.  I see the kindness in the eyes of many who ask and I don't assume the worst.  Instead, I worry.  I worry that people may want my 'tour of grief' to end before it will.  I am not even certain that I have entirely accepted that my boy isn't coming home to me.  I mean, all of his clothes are folded and placed in his dresser and they don't appear in the laundry basket covered in spaghetti sauce, dirt, or peanut butter anymore....

A few days after Haddon died, I was sitting on the couch with Calvin by my side.  In an instant, I remembered that I had prayed the identical prayer that I had prayed over Haddon when Calvin was born.   "God, please spare my son.  If he lives or if he dies, I will worship You, but please Lord, please spare my son." You see, when I got pregnant with Calvin, I was astounded.  We had waited years for him, quietly.  We did not pursue fertility doctors, but we prayed and waited on the Lord for years.  When he was born, he was quickly rushed to the NICU.  He weighed 10 lbs 1 oz and was 2.5 weeks early.  Our doctors couldn't figure out if he had underdeveloped lungs from gestational diabetes or if he had aspirated meconium during birth.  Nonetheless, he was quickly intubated and instead of improving, he kept requiring more of the ventilator.  I remember the NICU attending coming to sit with Jason and me to explain that the vent setting...