Morris' Field

Morris,

I’m writing you this letter from the air. Your daddy and I are on a plane headed back home. A friend of mine who is also a momma to an angel shared with me the other day that she always feels close to her son when she is flying. She thought it might sound silly, but I totally get it. 

We had an unbelievable time on our trip. I know that I'll never be completely healed, but this trip was healing for me in many ways. I am beyond grateful to our friends for so graciously welcoming us into their home, for treating us like royalty and for sharing an abundance of laughter and conversation with us this week. I've always heard that laughter is good for the soul, and after this week, I believe it. We spent our last night in Texas meeting a few members of our friends’ family and enjoying a fun car show and outdoor concert. Later, gathered around our friends’ kitchen table, we proudly told them a little bit more about you. There were smiles and a few unshed tears as we shared our memories and photos of you. When we left our friends' home this morning, we felt as if we had known them our whole lives. They seem more like family than friends now.   

The truth is you are never far from my mind, even when I am distracted. Thankfully though, there are times like this week when the pain of losing you doesn't feel so suffocating. I know there are people who feel guilty about having fun or finding happiness after a loss like this one, but I am not one of those people. The pain that comes from focusing on your absence is gut-wrenching, and if that was the only emotion that I let myself feel, I would be crippled. I would never get out of bed. I would miss out on the blessings that I receive from things like hearing your song somewhere, sharing a memory of you with a friend, or feeling your presence someplace unexpected. Finding ways to remember you, honor you and connect with you is the only way that I know how to get through this life without you. 

As we headed out of Austin the other day, your daddy and I stopped at the Bluebonnet field one more time. Once again, we were all alone with you in that sea of blue flowers. Your daddy managed to take a picture of the two of us by using the camera timer and roof of the rental car. Before we left, I picked a few flowers to press so that we would have a keepsake of the time we spent there with you. 

Not long after we got back on the road, we passed another Bluebonnet field. I told your daddy that we didn't need to stop for that one because it didn't come close to being as spectacular as your field. As soon as I said it, we both laughed. Now, in addition to all the other things that carry your name, there is a field. That beautiful Texas Bluebonnet field, the field where we found you again for a little while, will forever be Morris’ field. 

Love,

Mommy

Morris' Field 

(Just outside of Austin, TX on 290 West)