Missing Andy - You left the best part!

I saw you today, Andy.  As I took the dogs out at 6 AM I heard a plane overhead.  It was flying above the clouds before dawn and the light that flashed created this beautiful halo effect on the sky as it passed by.  So beautiful - like an angel not knowing whether to help me with stubborn Pumpkin and Cole or just to continue on the journey..  You then put the thought in my head.  Remember when you told the teacher how funny your Mom was when she scolded Pumpkin for doing "poo-poo" in the kitchen?  I guess I said, "You don't have permission to do that!".  Well, I told the dogs that it was a bit too cold, Mommy forgot her robe, and that they do not have permission to scour the freaking yard all morning to find the perfect spot.  It worked, Andy.  Thank you for that sweet memory.

I saw you yesterday.  A stranger passed by and took the time to gaze into my eyes and give me a nod and a smile.  How heart-warming.  You always could light up a room with your smile.  Thank you for that moment.

I saw you last weekend.  I picked up the Sunday newspaper and the flyers tumbled to the floor.  You loved the Sunday after Thanksgiving when all of the toy stores would advertise their products.  You studied them for weeks as you made your list.  Of course you would check with me to make sure you were not being too greedy for Santa.  You were never greedy, Andy.  You taught me the true meaning of humility.  I hope to always strive to be more like you.  Thank you so much for that lesson.

I hugged you last Friday.  We were celebrating Jeremy's birthday and their rescue cat cuddled up on my lap then stood on it's hind legs and stretched its paws over my shoulder.  How many dogs and cats did you save?  I treasured that hug, just like the one you gave me the night before you died.  I will never take for granted that tomorrow is a guarantee.  I will embrace today.  That's why they call it the Present. Thank you for teaching me that a hug is priceless and should never be taken for granted.

I found the remnants of Ba-Ba.  That tattered cloth that you treasured was in a bin with your hockey equipment, your favorite books, your hacky sack, your Tasmanian devil figure, your notes to me, your ski trail maps, your guitar picks - just the most precious assortment of objects that I could ever imagine.  Well, I took Ba-Ba and placed it under my pillow.  Don't think your Mom cukoo monkey.  My thoughts of seeing you in my dreams have been bolstered by that very act.  Thank you for being so precious.  Thank you for the possiblility of  sweet dreams.

I heard you last week.  As impossible as that sounds, your brother, Peter, made a recording for me.  He used his new Microphone that Santa brought him and, playing your black acoustic guitar, recorded Blackbird by the Beatles.  You played that for me the Saturday before you died.  It is now my ring tone.and your nephew, Andrew's favorite lulaby.  Thank you for teaching me that broken wings do not hinder the ability to fly.

Tonight I will mourn the last time that I physcially hugged you.  We were passing each other in the driveway and you actually stopped the car, ran to me and said goodbye.  I guess you might say that that simple act of hugging and saying goodbye was more than coincidence.  You see, your  Mom has become a firm believer in divine intervention..  I will never take anything for granted.  With my heightened awareness and my admitting that there exists something greater than ourselves, I now know that you are with me.  I only need to look, to feel, to open my heart. 

Andy, even though I no longer feel the warmth of your hug, see your angelic smile, hear your voice saying, "Guess what Mom, I love you",  you left the best parts behind.  God has put you in so many aspects of my life now.  I thank God for that gift and I thank him for allowing me to be your Mom for 19 wonderful years.  Peace, my son.  I love you dearly and miss you so very much.   Mom