Hey Baby Blue..

The words to follow the title would be “I deeply miss you.” Almost five years have passed and I still find myself trying to keep as busy just to get through another day. Especially these days leading to the anniversary of Grant’s death. My son’s name leading up to that word ‘death’ still crumbles my heart into a million pieces; I miss him so much. I still wait for him to walk through the door. I still wish to feel his amazing hugs. I miss everything about him. I miss his baby blues.

The death of Grant has been the most difficult journey life has dealt our family. As a family we had two choices: Grieve with grace or allow the tragedy of losing Grant to completely shatter our family. Love, grace, and kindness for each other… Grant would have wanted that…

This past weekend I photographed a sweet little boy going through cancer treatment. I’ve thought a lot about his mother. Her fears, her heart ache, all of her why’s unanswered…   we’re mothers, we can relate.

Some believe Grant was responsible for his disease. Unfortunately those thoughts are something I can’t alter the ignorant mind from thinking. I know that a disease took my child. As a mother myself the fear of existing without child I know is the same. The pain is the same regardless of the reason. Pain of the fear of losing a child is unbearable… I felt her pain… and know how real the pain can be. How devastating the fear can be.

For the two years before Grant’s passing I constantly thought of the the two end results that came with his disease. I knew it would end one way or the other. While I prayed for healing, I shivered with fear that this demon called addiction, would rob me of my son.

As I documented this mother inhale very beaming breaths, smile and giggle at her beautiful baby boy I was reminded of the deep kind of love a parent has for their child. The deepest love, like none other most would say. The kind of love that I can’t imagine life without them, nor should you. But even the depth of love most come to know, will never come anywhere near the deepest feelings of love… the kind of love and ache when you fear losing them.

There’s not a lot of sympathy for the disease that took Grant’s life. The journey was heart breaking for our entire family,  a fight that didn’t end with the celebration of sobriety, instead a celebration of his life.

Five years ago I feared Dec 3rd. I feared the unknown. I feared what it was doing to our family. I feared this disease. I feared the screams of that day.

My boy was a beautiful boy. He was smart. He was funny and he was loving,  He had the biggest heart. I was blessed with the most amazing 23 years filled with joy, laughter and love. I want to remember all of this, how he felt, his smell from the time he was tiny ’til that night when he kissed me goodnight. I want to forever close my eyes and greet his baby blues.

 I Love you Grantie, Mama


Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment

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One thought on “Hey Baby Blue..

  1. Tamy Tvedten

    I can so relate to this, I loss my son to this terrible disease 4/22/15. Holidays, Birthdays and Anniversaries are so hard. Thinking and praying for you and your family during this time.

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