still.

only someone who has been in deep dark nasty grief knows about laughing at in-opportune times. the awkward dark humor that makes others scoff or get uneasy in their chair. the kind of humor that is truly a survival tool at best. the kind of words like, "dropping the casket" or "dead baby" or "the walmart of urns..." things like that you only say, not because you think they are funny. they are the opposite. obviously. but because you have to laugh to get through picking out an urn for your tiny infant daughter's remains in a room that screams "what model would you like, how can i help you pick out the best one for you sir" or you will go insane with the reality of it. if you are a fellow grief parent or spouse or sibling or child, you will know exactly what i am speaking of.

fast forward to earlier this month: me talking to ian while cooking dinner. something that simple. talking about how CRAZY busy and crazy animalistic our henry is. how he is our precious sweet little terror, so busy, into everything. colicky baby early on, never wants to be snuggled or held, always on the go. never still.

"you know babe. i just realized that God's sense of humor is so great. the irony is hilarious, you know?" i say to him.

"yeh, what do you mean?" asks ian.

"i can remember screaming in that hospital room. bawling and screaming at her tiny lifeless body. so still. i remember begging her to move, to cry, to move in my arms. i yelled for her to stop being so still."

"and you know what GOD gave us in his wonderful goodness and faithfulness in henry?....a child that is NEVER still."