Happy 4th Birthday, Ty

Today there were no tears. It was just a fantastically fabulous day for Dan and me.  We went to Kingman-area to look at property, thinking we will buy in a couple years. I've never been that into the idea of buying land; Dan has been the one doing all the research. I know how important having land is to him, since he grew up with 6.5 acres. His fondest childhood memories take place out there, especially cutting wood with his Dad and building a Tee Pee with his friends or causing mischief. I wasn't totally excited about it, but I wanted to at least go look for Dan's sake.

When we arrived, we saw a few different areas, but there was one that caused both of us to drop our jaws: This particular land lined up right next to a huge canyon wall, bordering a river bed that flows quite well for a couple weeks during the summer. There were two different meadows where we envisioned building a cabin or planting a manufactured home there, or where Dan could bring the youth to participate in target shooting. We envisioned me running therapeutic recreation groups for families or corporations . . . the dreaming became bigger than our wide eyes as we took in the beauty.

Granted, desert landscape is not what I typically call beautiful -- but I could see beauty in this land in the potential it had to offer. There was a peaceful, happy feeling all day as we roamed around together, thinking about how much fun Aiyana would have running around.

The selling point for me was seeing and feeling how happy Dan was. This place would only be two hours door-to-door from our home to the land, and was located almost right off the asphalt (and yet still gave you the feeling of being in the middle of nowhere, despite the convenience of Kingman thirty minutes away). Dan was so giddy and I felt his energy rubbing off on me. It was a beautiful day and we thought of Ty often.

When we returned home, we met up with family members and went across the street to our park. After following the tradition of writing memories of and thoughts to Ty, we released the balloons just as dusk arrived.

 

Ty is still in my thoughts every single day. I like to bug the kids every so often, asking, "Where's Ty?? Have you seen him today?" Most of the time, they don't respond as though they know who I'm talking about. It makes me sad when Aiya calls Ty's pictures "Baby Aaron" . . . but my friend, Jamie, once told me that maybe she doesn't know Ty as a baby -- but as the adult spirit that we are taught he is now. That would make sense. . . He could just be a grown person to her. Or maybe she doesn't get to see him. Dan told me I need to stop counting on the kids to be conduit for the Other Side. = ) A mother can dream, can't she?? I would love if just once I could hear one of them genuinely talk about Ty. *sigh. I miss that little boy.