It’s a normal sound I hear several times a day. My phone pinged with a text from a friend, but what came next took my breath away.
“I know you miss Parker and will always wonder. Sometimes my son makes me think of Parker, too. I think our boys would be best of buds. Love to you friend.”
My eyes became blurry, filled with tears, as I barely made it through the text. I grabbed a tissue and tried to blot my eyes, yet the tears wouldn’t stop.
My friend’s child was born just weeks after my triplets arrived. We were pregnant together, embracing the special time in our lives while we compared cravings and joked about which of my girls her son would eventually marry. But instead of celebrating our first post-pregnancy get together, my friend grieved with me over the loss of two of my children. Our sons never met each other; my boy passed away just a couple of weeks after her child was born. Our endless daydreams of what life would be like raising children the same age disappeared that summer.
I often wonder what my son would be like. I see other children in my daughter’s school and quietly watch their personalities. Would my son be shy and reserved or would he be outgoing like his sister? Would he hold my hand as we walk through a store or would he be embarrassed by my hugs and coddling?
It’s been nearly five years since my triplets entered this world and I think about my son and daughter in heaven every single day. While there are days that feel like life is at a standstill, the world around me keeps on moving. The strangers I meet assume my daughter is an “only child”. And sometimes it’s easier to leave it that way, rather than face the awkward moments following the mention of children and death.
All night I thought of that text. And each time I looked at it, the tears emerged. As I lay in bed, I imagined my son playing with his friends. I pictured Parker building giant towers and giggling as his friend knocked it down. I smiled as I thought of my little blondie roughhousing like boys tend to do. And I thought of my friend and her comment. Yes, I think our boys would be best of buds.
As I glanced at the text this morning, I smiled through the tears. I may not hear their names as often these days, but my children will never be forgotten, and my friend reminded me of that at a time when I needed it the most.