Post from Renzi

The alarm goes off most mornings at 5:24 a.m. The rest I had yearned for over the past year returned rather easily, as if nothing happened. I usually wake up a few minutes before my alarm, my body rested and my mind racing. I 'm ready for another challenging week. Today, it was 4:50 a.m. I could have arisen, but I just laid there in the silence. This is when I do my best praying, as I passively listen to the gentle sounds of Lee Anne's breathing. Actually, this morning there were the faint sounds of two as Jackson had snuck into our bed in the middle of the night. His little toes fit perfectly into the small of my back where he occasionally kicks me as he adjusts his position. I don't really mind it.

It is another Monday morning. Exactly twenty-one weeks since Isaiah died. It still hurts like you know what. Since our crazy roller coaster ended in May, we have gotten back into somewhat of a routine. Knowing what to expect is one of the things that we humans need. Lee Anne and I never knew what each day brought with Isaiah, but here we are twenty-one weeks later and I could tell you my entire day, week and remainder of month. Seriously, I know where I'll be each day and weekend until Thanksgiving. Routine. People need one. Routine gives us comfort.

Part of my morning routine is to make a caauccino from our Jura Capresso F9 coffee maker. It is a positive, daily reminder of Isaiah-the nearly four figure coffee maker that we bought so we "could have a great cup of coffee if we were going to be up all night." It is worth it. I took my first sip of the freshly ground espresso with hot steamed milk and one sweet-and-low and headed back to my home office.

Maybe I'll read Lee Anne's blog this morning, I thought. Isaiah was always on my mind on Monday mornings. As I pulled open the browser, I got a good laugh out of her "Organized Sports" post about Jackson's first soccer game. I scrolled down the page to previous posts. I knew a recent post was about Isaiah, but I had not had the stomach to read it. Until now. The "Missing Him" post had elicited quite a response from readers. It made me cry-nothing like crying before 6:00 a.m.- and inspired me to write this post. I finished my now warm-coffee and started typing.

Most of you know this by now, but Lee Anne is a special gal. She is incredibly strong, but we both still have our moments of pain, like yesterday on the way back from the lake when we got into a heated discussion about whether Isaiah's condition was "extremely complicated." No doctor had ever used that word and she wanted to know "why," especially since it ended they way it did. Our docs did a great job and were all positive with us the entire time, even when we asked for "worst case" scenarios. I told her that I did not think "why" was a good question for us anymore. "Why" is elusive-and unfair- and unanswerable. "Why" sucks.

My head began to clear as the caffeine did its job. I though about Isaiah's life, our life, Jackson and whether we would have other children. I thought about grace. I thought about our priorities. I thought about the progress we have made since May. I thought about the pain and then I focused on the positives. The empty-feeling heartaches are never far away from me, but I'm putting distance between them every day.

The key is to pull the good moments even closer. I need another cappuccino.

Renzi