“Dancing in the Sky,” by Dani and Lizzy, has just shattered by heart.
This is my song to my baby in Heaven.
Tanner, I hope you’re dancing and singing… I miss you so.
I See You
I see you, Tanner.
I’ve been asked if I’ve seen any signs yet: those little glimpses or assurances that Tanner’s okay and still with us.
Friday was the first.
Back many years ago, shortly after high school, three friends were killed in a car accident. At the memorial for a pair of cousins, a mother spoke about the presence of a pair of white butterflies and how she saw her son and his cousin in them. I remember, honestly, thinking there was some desperation in her hold on these butterflies that would appear, as if out of nowhere.
The next day, as I rode my horse, this one white butterfly appeared and fluttered alongside me for a while. I just grinned, my heart eased, and I was grateful to accept a visit from the friend I had lost.
As the years went on I began losing many children I fell in love with through the Make-A-Wish program. And each time, whether sitting at a graveside or a taking a quiet moment in a park, I would pause and look… and so often find myself visited by a single, white butterfly.
And so, with my baby gone, I haven’t stopped searching. I lay in bed and gaze at the backyard, waiting for the assuring flutter of little white wings.
But he wasn’t coming.
On Friday morning, as I laid in bed, I told Darrell of the story and significance of the white butterfly. I prayed repeatedly for God to send me this sign my heart has found peace in over the years. A few hours later, as Darrell gazed off, he admitted never spending so much time looking at the backyard for a simple butterfly.
Friday was one of my bad days, full of tears and the feeling as if I couldn’t move. The Mac truck that’s run me over seemed to have just parked atop of me.
Finally, in the early afternoon Darrell had gone to Instagram and was scrolling his feed as I lay just watching my favorite rose.
He paused to read a poignant meme: “In your darkest hour, that is when God will shine the brightest.”
And then, in that very exact moment, a white butterfly came down, fluttered just feet from my bedroom glass doors and then just as quickly fluttered off again.
Darrell and I both watched the butterfly in sheer gratitude and amazement. I jumped and screamed, grabbing his legs to make sure that he also saw my baby.
Tanner, I see you.
And Lord, I see you in this, too. In my darkest hour, you are here.
Then, last night, sitting on the patio, talking with friends and family and plotting how to silence the yapping dog next door I felt a quiet push to look at my phone.
It was 8:20.
Exactly.
The very moment one week earlier that the doctors declared my son an angel.
Tanner will always be with me, he will always be my son and the heart of this family. I continue to pray for signs that he is here, that he is with us.
I love you, Tan-man.
Come see me soon, I miss you with all my heart. 
My Something Good
Whenever my business coach would call she would always start the call with “Tell me something good.”
So many times, Tanner was my something good.
There was always a smile, a story, a dance move to share.
On this occasion we were heading to Universal Studios. He came out of his room wearing a black sequined little black dress over his jeans and shirt. He has stolen it earlier out of his cousin’s closet. Surely if she looked good in it, he looked better.
I hesitated to let him wear it.
But then, I figured he would be sitting in the wheelchair he used for theme parks and and his sweater would cover all but an inch or so at the bottom anyhow. No one would ever even know.
And it made him happy.
So off we went. The moment we got to the park, he heard the music, jumped from his chair, ripped off his sweater and began to shimmy in his LBD.
Tanner, there will never be another like you.
My Little Learner
My precious smart little boy.
(I actually held it together for this one until the most adorable little sign for “apple”.)
Thank you, Terry Brown, for unlocking Tanner’s love for learning and capturing so much on video.
This video may be a million years old, but it’s even more precious today than it was then.
Rock On!
Tanner stopped telling me he loved me.
It happened a few years ago.
Suddenly, it wasn’t cool. And if you know Tanner, he is the epitome of cool.
One time I flashed the sign for “I love you” and he said:
“No. Not cool. Rock on! Cool!”
“Rock on” became our new “I love you.”
So it became our thing.
I would flash the “I love you” sign and say “I love you, Tan-man!” and he would give me a “What chu talkin’ about Willis”-face as I clearly knew better… and then he would wait.
I would flip my hand around, exchange my “I love you” sign for his “Rock on!” sign, tell him to “Rock on!” and he would grin and return it.
Rock on, my baby, my joy, my light.
Rock on!
He Is Risen
One foot in front of the other…
This is where my feet led me. I’ve had plenty of people give me permission to miss church, to stay home and grieve.
But it is through the resurrection that we gain Heaven. It is because of this ultimate sacrifice that I will see my baby again.
I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay but for now, I am here. And so is He.
#HeIsRisenIndeed
Pray For Us, Tanner
I was a momarazzi. Thank God.
I’m treasuring the videos I have of him.
As his perfect soul was leaving us in the hospital I was on my knees and then flat on my face pleading with God for a miracle, for mercy.
I didn’t feel like God was listening. I never felt like He heard our prayers. Even now, I ask Him to ease the pain and it is somehow worse each moment than the moment before.
But I just came across this video.
My Tanner.
Praying.
Praying for the meal. Praying for each of the dogs. Praying for monster trucks and Power Rangers. Praying for the cast of Full House.
And praying for his mama.
I know God hears and loves the innocent prayers of my precious baby.
I know He hears mine too.
Guardian Needed
Tanner-Man, there was never a Power Ranger tougher than you. You fought valiantly to the very end.
Now, please watch out for your little brother. He needs someone to help guard his very broken heart.
You’re just the guy.
We miss you more than words can ever express.
The Words
The following is a beautiful message written by Emily Quilter McCarthy, an ad-writer for HiCaliber Horse Rescue, of which I am CEO. I wanted to share her words…
“I am the one who writes the words.” –Bernie Taupin, lyrcist for Elton John.
But what happens when there are none that fit?
I am a member of the ad writing team for HiCaliber Horse Rescue. We create adoptions ads for the hundreds of horses saved from slaughter and neglect to find them their forever homes.
We write the words.
Last night, I messaged with several members of our ad writing team as we waited for updates on our Tanner, HiCaliber CEO Romney’s son. We are a varied group: some married, some moms, some equine experts, some novices, some young, some who hide our grays. But our common talent is writing.
We write the words that find horses their forever homes.
Our reactions to Tanner’s crisis varied. Some of us vomited. Some drank. Some looked for signs in the universe. Some forced hugs onto our children. Some forced hugs onto our horses. Some prayed. We all cried.
Our common theme was, “I don’t have the words for this.” “I don’t know what to say.” “This is indescribable.”
We, the wordsmiths of HiCaliber, didn’t have the words.
So how do you find the words for something as excruciating and impossible as the death of a child?
As our writing team put it–through tears and alcohol and abject pain–it’s nearly impossible.
Mary McGrory, Washington Star columnist, offered the following advice to fellow reporters who admired her coverage of President Kennedy’s assassination and burial: “Write short sentences in the presence of great grief.”
Our messages to each other yesterday were brief, fragmented, and typo-riddled. Our great grief took away our words.
In a way, Tanner was ours, too. Our Village’s child, even though most of us had never met him in person. Romney is the leader of our village and Tanner was the light. Tanner, and his brother Travis and their future stepdad Darrell, gave Romney the lightness and joy needed after months and months of attending slaughter auctions, fighting the naysayers, and begging for money.
So what happens when the light goes out?
Some of us know; some of us have lost children and family before their time. For some, this is the first time the light has left, and darkness enters.
I know this darkness, and I do not have the words for it.
This week–in some absurd, sick way–may be the easiest for Tanner’s momma. There are Things To Do. Paperwork. Services. Travel plans. Food will be brought, fridges stocked. Daily calls and supportive messages received. Busyness and business. The Things To Do will keep her moving and almost distracted.
But then, after the services and the Things To Do are done, inevitably, the rest of us go back to living. For Romney, the weeks and months following this busy next one…well…this is where the darkness comes in.
This is also where the words come in.
We must remember in two weeks, or six Thursdays from now, or in five months, while we are busy with horses and carpool and babies and paying the rent, to not forget that Romney and Travis and Darrell may still be in the darkness. We must find the words.
Find them, write them, send them.
Those of us who know this darkness know that words matter; that a written check-in from a friend a month or three later can be a lifesaver. These messages may never be returned, but they will be read. And re-read.
For some of us, we must find those words first. And we, the writers, we together will fight the darkness.
They may be clumsy, lacking originality and sans punctuation, but we will write the words. We promise.
______
We write the words that save horses.
We write the words that save our friends.
We write the words that fight off the darkness.
We write the words that bring in the light.
We are the ones who will write the words.
______
Two Broken Hearts
In the midst of my grief, I’m trying to somehow help my son find his way without his best friend and brother.
He loves Tanner.
He needs Tanner.
Both of my boys were adopted but they were true brothers from the moment they met. I think they loved each other and were there for each other more than most biological siblings often are.
Travis may have been the younger brother, but he was always looking out for Tanner, making sure he was safe and protecting him.
There is a massive hole in his heart.
I don’t know how to ease his pain… and his broken heart just magnifies mine. I have one baby gone and the other desperately hurting.
God, please show mercy on my family and our broken hearts.
