Heart Ache

This past weekend I traveled to Utah for a funeral.  Sweet, courageous, and strong Caleb Joseph Moody passed away Friday, February 10, 2012.  Not too long ago, perhaps only a year ago, I met Caleb's mom, April, through the blog world.  It was a time when I began to step out and "meet" other families.  Caleb was among the few who I was immediately drawn to.  His story was miraculous.  He beat the odds.  It was so clear to me that he had a mission to fulfill, and I wanted to watch it unfold.  As I read about his little life and became more acquainted with his mom, I was uplifted.  I felt my life change in small ways. 

I met April and some other moms I've gotten to know while in Utah this past September.  It was fantastic and I felt such love for all of these women.  April said something that stuck with me, and over the past few months it's nagged at my heart.  I so badly wanted to meet Caleb in person -- to feel his spirit.  I knew he had become sick with pneumonia, and I hoped that he'd fight it as he had in the past.

All day Saturday, I was at the temple and with other families celebrating the joys of adoption.  It was a long, wondeful, and hectic day.  When I got home that night, I saw that Caleb had passed away, and my heart sank.  I haven't felt sadness like that in...I really don't know when.  Marcus immediately said it would be ok with him if I went to the funeral.  I was so grateful for that ~ I didn't even have to ask.

Caleb's death has been a unique experience for me.  I have known other special kids who have passed away.  I have cried for their families and have been touched by their stories.  But I didn't know them.  I just knew their stories.  I know April.  And though I haven't yet met Caleb (I plan on it one day), I have felt a deep love for this little boy. 

The funeral was beautiful.  Beautiful.  The Spirit was so strong.  It was uplifting ~ a true celebration of life.  After a week of sadness, truly I had been crying on and off all week long, I felt joy; I felt love.  I was still sad, but I felt so honored to have been there. 

One of my favorites.

Yet, tonight, my heart aches.  It feels physically heavy...pulled downward toward the floor...as I think about April and her family tonight without Caleb.  Seven years of daily care, of unconditional love...and I am sad thinking about the empty bed that is there in their home.  I wonder how someone really "adjusts" to that.  And I cry for them.