With the anniversary of Carter’s death, I have found myself
reflecting on the changes that have occurred since his passing. April 27th
marks FOUR years since our son passed away. Four whole years without our little man…
Our lives have changed so much in the four years since
Carter died. In the span of these four years, we have:
- Had FOUR more beautiful children
- Moved into a new spacious house
- Purchased two new-to-us vehicles
- and accepted new employment at a Christian school
Carter has four siblings that he will never play with, a
house that he will never step foot in, vehicles that he will never ride in, and
a school that he will never attend. While all of these changes are wonderful
things for our family, it saddens me to think of all of the living that Carter
has missed out on. Each of these changes
takes us further away from the life we had with him. Further away from the
places, people and material items that were a part of his life and hold
memories of his life. And that’s hard. Really hard.
I find myself not wanting to let go of the material things
that Carter played with. Especially items that I have a specific memory of him
using. For example, this past weekend Jeremy and I spent some time cleaning out
our garage. We came across a portable DVD player that belonged to Carter. This
DVD player has been broken for a few years now, but I held on to it because of
the memories that it held. We purchased it for Carter to use during his trips
to NYC for treatment. I have a vivid memory of pushing Carter around in his
stroller at Sloan Kettering with this DVD player propped up on the tray in
front of him. And I remember somebody commenting that it was “quite the setup”
I had for him.
I also have a vivid memory of Carter using this DVD player during
his very last hospital stay, about 3-4 weeks before he passed away. It was
Easter Sunday morning of 2010, and I was alone with Carter at the hospital. I
decided to take a quick shower, so I set him up to watch Curious George on his
portable DVD player. At this point in time, Carter had already had his brain
bleed, so he had lost a lot of his gross motor and fine motor abilities. He
could no longer walk, or even sit up on his own. So I propped Carter up with
pillows in his bed and set the DVD player on the hospital tray in front of him.
When I finished my shower and came out of the bathroom, I was surprised to see
Carter trying to lean forward and reach his trembling hand out to press play. The
George episode had finished and he wanted to watch another one! Despite the
poor physical condition Carter was in, he was still determined to watch more
George! He sure loved that show! It’s such a heartbreaking memory, but one that
I will never forget.
And so, there I was in the garage reminiscing, and trying to
decide what to do with this broken DVD player. Jeremy suggested that we finally
throw it out, and I agreed. As I walked outside to the trash can I found myself
examining the DVD player one last time. I looked closely at the buttons that
Carter had pushed with his little fingers. I inspected the screen, hoping to
catch a glimpse of his little fingerprints. I forced myself to drop it into the
trash, I walked back to Jeremy and burst into tears. He held me as I had a good
cry. I was surprised with how hard it was for me to let it go. Who would have
thought that a broken DVD player could bring about such strong emotions?
Four years, and life is so different now. We miss him
terribly, yet we have continued to live, we have continued to move forward. And
I know that’s a good thing. Truthfully, there have been many days that I’ve
wanted to just crawl in bed, pull the covers up over my head and hibernate in
solitude for a month. But that’s just not possible when you’ve got five children
ages five and under to care for! They need me! So on those hard days, I pray to
God and ask him to give me strength. And the Lord gives me the strength I need to
pull myself together, to get out of bed and to face the day. The Lord also
gives me great hope--- hope of seeing my son again, hope of spending eternity
in Heaven, and hope of being free from the trials and sorrows of this world! Oh
how I look forward to that day!
~Wanda Cummings
