i spoke with my friend Sonya twice today.
the first was hard.
with our kiddos napping, we let a phone line pretend to give us a real connection … i listened as she talked about amazing things — things that Banebow is doing that i’m still trying to process so that i can report them all here — things that fill her up.
and then i listened as she talked about emptiness, about a pain so unreal that she still wakes some mornings as if it will all be over, this nightmare walk of mama bereft.
and when she cried, i couldn’t squeeze her hand, couldn’t hand her a tissue or rub her back — on this day, this one of many mile markers on the road through pain and grief: today, the one month anniversary of the blind-siding loss of sweet Bane.
and from somewhere in St. Louis, i cursed how impotent i am, how powerless i am to to tell her — by phone or email or any other modern mode of communication — something that will ease pain, bring light, give her something to see by, to get through just this one hard day.
and then: a second phone call.
and mention of a police officer.
and it was all good.
because the officer in question had stopped to inquire why she, grown woman, well-dressed, with small child, would be sitting — sitting! — on the grass near a busy intersection in a metropolitan area. and though there were all these details about her car being unavailable and her decision to walk in the drizzle to meet a friend for dinner — the real point of all the excitable screaming was to communicate these words:
“DOUBLE BANEBOW! DOUBLE BANEBOW!!!”
and my friend, who had set out on foot with heavy heart to run an errand on a hard day, had turned her gaze skyward to find a message being sent to her without any technology whatsoever. a banebow — times two.
a message that brought light and hope and comfort in a way that no words from me or anyone else could ever do.
today, we remember a sad day — and yet, even in the midst of sadness, we look forward to better days at the same time … all the while trusting in a God who is ever present, today and forever.
a God who finds us — even at a busy intersection,
a God who knows our mess — even when we need a double,
a God who bids us look to Him — even when the sky is gray,
so that he can communicate with grace unspeakable his lavish, technicolor love for us.
may you and yours be doubly blessed this weekend …
I have thought so much about you both this week-I am a frequent customer of McDonald's for my daily latte-twice this week I have paid for the car behind mine's order in honor of Bane…the first in Dickson and the second in Nashville(I just tell the person at the drive-thru why I'm doing it-(Bane's story) and for the person to pay it forward in kindness to someone else. It makes me feel good and I hope it brings you some comfort that perhaps others will spread the kindness in honor of your sweet Bane!!!!!-Abbey
Sonya and Drason,
I prayed so hard for you yesterday. What a beautiful reminder. We love you both.
Amanda and Jesse
Sonya & Drason,
I pray for you every single day, sevral times a day. You have inspired so many already with your strength. I only met baby Bane breifly one summer day in the middle of the street in our neighborhood, but I fell in love with him, and I continue to fall more and more in love with him when I hear about the way his life is touching so many. Bane's story has made me take life a little slower, love on my hubby a little longer, cherish my family and friends more than ever, and praise and glorify God like I never have before. Please know that you two and sweet Livi are loved dearly, and that I will continue to pray, and pass on Bane's story. I may not see you very often, but you are never far from my heart.
Love you! Praying for peace and comfort for the days ahead.