Sweet Little People and Rain

Awww rain. It’s coming down for the first time in a while. The clouds are hovering, and the air is crisp. This morning I watched my next-door niece get on the bus without Jace. His swollen little body is curled up next to me, and we just finished doing some homework. He slept restlessly last night, and one time when I checked on him in the night he was dripping wet. I can only imagine what must be going on inside his blood. My creative brain pictures good cells overtaking evil cells, and I’m here on the outside being the most intense fan, cheering for good.

I talked Jace into letting me take a picture of his long hair (on the condition that he didn't have to smile). Right before he went into the hospital, he was due for a haircut. Now, 2 ½ weeks later we still haven’t trimmed it. We were told he might start losing his hair anywhere from 2 weeks to 1 month. He’s getting more used to the idea of not having hair, but I think secretly he hopes he will keep his mop. All I know is that despite the way his life has changed, Jace is still so sweet. When I kiss his forehead and tell him he’s a good boy, he always responds, “You are a good mom.” He’s starting a calming habit while he sits next to me of putting my hair behind my ears over and over. He also catches my eye as I walk by him and says, “Love you.” It’s amazing how he perceives my hurt. I try so hard to guard him from my fear, but even though we don’t speak of it, he knows. He will tell me things like, “I’m really ok, mom,” and “Don’t worry! I’m fine.”

Last night while Matt stayed with Jace, I met with some friends to discuss basketball season for Hayden. It was so nice to be in a comfortable room with adults who genuinely have the same interests and goals for our children. We drifted into a conversation about how the little people in our world are all so perceptive and in tune with the spirit. Today I’m grateful for the opportunity I have to be home with this spiritual giant named Jace. He is lifting my heart and making it possible for me to smile. His puffy hands just finished gluing his art project together. He said, “My arms need a break,” so we are taking it. In a while we are going to bundle up and walk outside. The sweet moisture in the air has settled the dust, and he will be able to walk without his mask. Rain sweet rain.

Homework (Plato) on the computer- with a heated "rice baby" on his aching wrist.