Just now driving home from a morning breakfast-picnic at Sam's park and an afternoon of shopping with my girls, I see it...
The first and only Monarch butterfly I've seen all season.
It was beautiful. Just as I remember it on that cold windy late October day at Sam's park.
My little boy saying, "Hi, Mommy, I'm here."
This one was different.
I first noticed it as the van in front of me smacked it with the car.
It quickly disappeared from sight. It was gone just like that. Another victim to passing car.
Just then I see something fly from the front of this car and flail in the sky, as if trying to stay afloat.
Desperately clinging to life.
Trying to fly.
Trying to stay alive.
I watched helplessly as this beautiful creature danced with death. Obviously there was nothing I could do....
But drive and flashback to 2 years, 2 months, and 4 weeks ago.
Did he dance with death?
Did he desperately cling to life?
Or was it quick?
Did he suffer?
I would have saved him if I could.
If I'd known.
I would have laid my own life down for him. I still would, just for a moment with him.
...and it was gone. I could no longer see dance with death. I supposed it died. How could something so fragile survive.
Life changes in a second.
Life is out of my control. I hate that.
That Monarch was my son. Gone in an instant.
Ahhhh...He laughs again at me. You don't make it easy to find faith.