"In The Air"

This may sound strange to some, and familiar to others, but sometimes I can feel Trey "in the air", so to speak in waves, stages, and at utterly unexpected times. It's different than the daily thoughts I think of him.  His presence just feels more pervasive, available.  Put simply, I don't just think of him but I feel him. Sometimes. 

This has been a "phenomenon" that has merely continued since his passing. I used to call my mom and say, "I don't know... I'm just having a hard "Trey Day", I guess..." Nine times out of ten, I could hear her voice collapse on the phone with a breathless, "Me too..." This is obviously not limited to my mom,  she's just one person also affected that I know about when I'm going through the same thing. This has also happened with Chris, obviously more than anyone else. He could leave for work, and a song will put tears in my eyes while he's away, feeling Trey. He'll come home and say, "Man, I was driving home from work and I just missed him..." And just like my mom's response to me, I breathe a deep sigh of both despair and relief in saying, "Me too..." 

This happens less and less these days. I think time (and the welcomed distraction of caring for an infant) is the reason for this. It's not that I don't think of him endless times a day with some innocuous thought or another, it's that there are times where I feel the floodgates of my heart and tears opening. And I didn't even know it was there...

There's so much unpredictability in a grief journey. I used to say, "I wish I could just know, or at least have some warning, about which days were going to knock me off my feet and shatter my heart..." But there's no telling. For example, I was dreading the first anniversary of Trey's  death more than anything. I was shocked and bewildered when his first birthday was harder. Sometimes, I can fumble through his clothes half mindedly and with ease. Other times, a stain on his swaddle blanket will make me practically collapse, a small sign that he was here. 

When Trey first passed, an old friend of mine reached out to me saying, "You've been on my heart lately. Give me a call if you feel up to it." You've been on my heart lately... I don't know if it was truly the first time I'd heard that phrase, or if for the first time it resonated. 

Trey, you're always on my mind. But for the last few days,  for whatever reason, you've been on my heart as well. I can feel your soul when I hear your songs and my whole body gets covered in goosebumps. I cry tears of gratitude and regret when the magnitude of my love for you is reminded to me. You feel so close... 

And then funny things happen.  I get a beautiful, and honestly unexpected notice that his face has been viewed by over 2,000 people within the past few days...That people were running to fight SIDS on behalf of my son, myself, and Chris while never laying eyes on us. They didn't just do this for us, of course, but for countless others. Pictures of these angels, lining the race, served their motivation, their guide, their reason and their cause. I feel like a broken record, but I am so moved. Their generosity rises out of love and devotion to their son. And that is a feeling I so deeply understand and respect.  

I'm astonished that there are parents out there (more than I'd ever know to think, seeing as SIDS is supposedly so "rare") feeling, aching, breaking, restructuring, rebuilding, and most of all: dedicating their lives to their children who have left too soon, too cruelly, and without reason that we've yet to find. It can blow your mind if you allow it to. How this happens. Why this happens. And the magnitude of despair felt by those affected. 

I think Trey has been "in the air" because he was in the minds and hearts of virtual strangers who truly understand and empathize with the pain of being a bereaved parent, relative, or friend. This is the power of love and community, I believe. It transcends space, time, and understanding. I'm both so angry and so grateful to be apart of this dreaded "club". I don't want to see another "new member" for as long as I live, and I also don't ever want to let go of the current members whom i have come to find and adore. 

 I have found tremendous feats of strength, hope, and mental/emotional/spiritual fortitude. I have found the "parents of all parents", "the mothers of all mothers", the ones that have had to do the unthinkable, yet still rise. Even when they feel broken.  And aimless. And crushed beyond all comprehension. There is so much grace and beauty to be found. And even enough to be called upon when you need to draw on some strength yourself. 

I thank all of you...💓