I have been contemplating my return to blogging lately. I have a whole list of topics I want to blog about and pictures I’ve taken for that purpose. But as usual, I’ve put it off due to my perpetual busyness. Should J bless me by taking a nap, I have a long list of TO DOs that all seem very pressing at the time.
I’ve been too busy to do a lot of things over this past year. One of them being catching up with old friends and neighbors. Dean and I were discussing this very thing over the weekend, and I had made a resolve to get in contact with dear old neighbors when I received a text from them. Unfortunately, it was not a happy coincidence. My girlfriend was in a car accident and though she was blessed to walk away, her five year old son was not so lucky. Brady, who was a superhero here on earth, earned his permanent wings in heaven on Friday August 23.
So it is with a very heavy heart that I return to blogging to speak about Brady, who was a very special boy. I referred to him as my neighbor baby and was privileged to observe his growth-the ebb and flow of change within him- more closely than I could my nieces and nephews who all live miles away. I would call him my practice baby, but his parents were too smart to let me experiment with him all that much.
I can recall two instances of babysitting, in which I must have been the last resort. During the first, Dean and I babysat while his parents went to a late night movie. He was already asleep, and I’m willing to bet we prayed very hard that he stayed that way. When it got very late (code word for past 11 PM), we had difficulty staying awake and Dean kept hitting me to keep me alert. We were very anxious about all the responsibility, you see, having no babies of our own. I managed to open one eye and in a moment of brilliance said, “Wait, wouldn’t his parents be asleep by now? They do sleep, right.” Aaah, yes. But now I know all mammas sleep with one eye open and one ear up.
The second time, Brady was only napping, but I was assured he would sleep the entire time I was there. One half hour later, I heard him crying. Luckily, I had been left a list of favorite activities. I tried them all to no avail but finally got him calm by my own doing and patted myself on the back for a job well done. It is only in retelling the story now that I recall I did not check the poor kid’s diaper, and I’m fairly certain he was not potty trained. Fortunately, he did not hold it against me and always had a hug, a smile and a list of questions ready whenever I ran into him.
It is with enormous sadness, that I say goodbye to this remarkable boy. The picture below will link to his memorial site should you be compelled to visit. He was a fixture at the various gatherings at our household over the years and made an impression on many, including those who did not know him well. It is his parents’ hope that they can preserve his memory and share of his generous young heart by serving a number of charities.