It has been three years now since that phone call came that catapulted me into the pit of despair that I have been diligently climbing out of ever since. It has transformed my little family of four into new people, hardly recognizable to me sometimes. There is a yawning gap between who we were, and who we have become, and are still becoming because of Caleb's accident. I am ever so proud of the boys and how they have handled responsibilities flung at them from all corners, accepted a mom who has been nothing short of distant at times, and have found peace with a father who resides now in their memories.
As I sat across the breakfast table from Caleb this early morning, I raised my coffee cup to his orange juice in a toast. " Caleb, your dignity through these past three years has been nothing short of miraculous. I am so happy that you determined to fight instead of giving up. I love that I am holding a warm hand, because it could have been so easily a cold body that I was touching for the last time. Thank you for being so brave."
A cloud shadowed his eyes making his face look ominous, clandestine.
Then he raised his glass higher and after a pregnant pause replied " Mom, I am trying to eat my breakfast"
Life goes on....and on...and on.
Happy fourth of July.