As I look out the window to a sea of white, I see a tiny blue bird hopping across the snow covered ground. He barely even lands, never in one place for more than a second.
From a distance, the snow appears untouched, still perfectly in place. But as I look closer, I see a tiny imprint in the fresh powder. Tiny little bird-prints, perfectly impressed in the white ground.
And I can’t stop myself from thinking, that there are two little footprints that will never be in the snow. Footprints of a happy two-year old, that will forever be absent. I allow myself to imagine a tiny boy with dark blond curls, and deep blue eyes, running carelessly through the back yard. He is chasing after our dog while my husband chases him. They fall to the ground in giggles and roll in the snow. I’m smiling relentlessly and taking a million photographs. And in that moment, all is right with the world. But then my breath fogs the bedroom window, and I snap back to reality. The snow in the back yard sits perfectly untouched. Forever undisturbed.
There are days, when those missing footprints overwhelm me. Days when the lost reality of those two little feet pattering around leave my heart throbbing in pain. Days when the silence of their absence is deafening. It hurts, and it will always hurt. But I know that just because I can’t see those footprints now does not mean that they didn’t exist. My son may not be here physically, but he did leave footprints in this world. He left an impression on me and on the hearts of many, an impression that will never fade away. No matter how much time passes or how much the world changes, he did exist. And he always will.
The snow begins to melt, and the tiny bird-prints slowly disappear, but that it no way negates their existence or the existence of the soul that left them.
- The Roads We Take - December 31, 2016
- Irreplaceable - July 27, 2016
- No Footprints in the Snow - February 29, 2016