Far Away

This week we’ve been confronted with our fair share of challenges surrounding Ronan.  Scrambling to find a spot for him in Kindergarten (a very long story) and getting lab results back indicating a large number of food allergies and other nutritional problems.  It feels like one thing after the next, and some days the path forward and through this all can feel daunting.

And then there are these moments, that hit me like a ton of bricks.  When I realize that the sensitivity in Ronan’s body and person (that which makes it challenging for him to eat and move and live) is the same sensitivity that connects him with a source of Wisdom much greater than you and I.  He understands, and calls out, at such a deep level what we all tend to forget (or what we come to understand as we grow older).

Here is a fragment that I attempted to reproduce from a conversation in the car yesterday.

Austin: Mama- will you miss me when I die?

Mica: I don’t think I’ll feel sadness when I’m dead.  What do you think, Ronan?

Ronan: You don’t feel.  When you die your whole body stops working.  Your heart stops, your brain stops, but the invisible thread keeps working.  It spills out more love than ever out of your heart.  And the more blood that goes through the invisible string, the more it makes the other person smile.  It spills out to people you love for 10, 35, 57, 93 years after you die.  And, oh, the light on the thread is like fire.