Myles and Aaron are at the hemophilia camp. They are rafting down the Salmon river with a forecast of large hail, rain, and gusty winds. WHAT A GREAT MEMORY FOR MY SONS! I have time to think when buggies is gone. Time to think of how much I love him, time to think about who he is, time to think of my role as his mother. I have realized that I am only a witness to Myles' life, a person in the audience to witness the play. Most parents feel that they are the directors of their childrens life. It is their job to direct and guide their childs role in this life. I have always felt this way to, until now. Myles has a direction in life that really has nothing to do with me. Yes, I am there to love, comfort, inspire him, but who he is seems to come from somewhere deep inside him. I can only stand back and watch. It is way beyond anything that I can contribute to. He has always had this direction, but I think that facing death as many times as he has, it has grown. It's really hard to explain. His presence to anyone who is near him brings about a comfort of life, a sweet and gentle unspoken reason for life and living. He knows something that most of us don't, but he doesn't know what he knows, it's just in his soul that he can't explain. I witness it daily, old, young, affluent, and poor, they all feel something when they meet him. I have relinqished this duty of mine, and I will just witness and learn. Sometimes that is the only thing to do and I am SO honored.
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of
Children."
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,
not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you
with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that
is stable.
--
Kahlil Gibran
We all have scars, some that can be seen, some that are hidden in our souls. Show your scars of life and be PROUD. It proves that you survived. My son does. Isn't he gorgeous!!!!! The top picture was taken last October, I can't believe how much buggies has changed in under a year.
