I miss my Koen. One of the hardest things about moving for me was the feeling of abandoning him, walking away. It is a four hour round trip now, so I sought refuge at a nearby cemetery. Cemeteries used to make me uneasy, not a place I was interested in lingering. But now, I see peace and love, and heartache, and comfort. I thought I only felt that where Koen is laid to rest, but last week as I walked amongst the graves of strangers I felt that same peace and comfort. I only took about 10 steps before I saw this grave stone.
Not exactly Koen, and pronounced much different, but seeing it took my breath away. He's with me all the time. As we strolled and read the tombstones, some dating over a 150 years ago, I saw so many babies. I tended to the grave of a momma who lost her infant son in the 1800s. And cried for her. This ache I feel is something that mothers have felt since the beginning of time, I am sadly not alone in my heartache. Medical advances have helped to minimize those impacted by loss, but some deaths cannot be avoided. I "what if" often, but there was nothing that I could have done to save Koen.
Moving is hard. So hard. But in our travels I have been given the most amazing friends. Ever. My friends worked together this weekend, visited Koen for me, and gave him mums at his grave just like his mommy always did. My gratitude is beyond all words. He's not alone, not abandoned. So many of you have poured out so much love of the years. Thank you for loving me, loving Koen.