That night. After Lance and I said goodbye to Rory in the ambulance. After we told and collected the boys from a neighbor’s house. We were in a car headed around the corner to my parent’s house.
Chiler was sitting next to me.
He said, “Mom, don’t check out. Don’t leave me.”
Those words stand guard to my choices and decisions.
Don’t check out.
Those two sentences told me a couple of things about my little 13 year old.
One, he understood the gravity of what had just happened.
Two, he was scared.
I can’t do anything about the first. Her death happened.
I can do something about the second, it’s in the choices and decisions I make daily.
I can’t change the past.
But I have power to affect the present and future.
I go through ranges of emotions every single day.
This is unfair.
I hate my life.
Those statement enter my mind more times than I’d like to admit. But I get to decide how long they dwell.
Anger is potent and can easily take over. But I have guardians over my brain. I have words from a son that needs me.
I choose to stay with him. With them.
I choose hard talks, discussing the impossible.
I choose Easter baskets, to see the smile on their faces.
I choose vacations, to help them see the world.
I choose family dinners and movie nights.
I choose our new kind happiness over anger.
I won’t check out.
I won’t leave them.