Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Bedtime Prayers

Tonight I put Gavin to bed.  99% of the time, that is my husband’s job.  He gets home later from work so it his alone time with Gavin, but tonight he just didn’t get home in time.  Gavin always thinks it’s an open invitation to party if I’m putting him to bed and he just can’t control himself from tossing and turning and TALKING the whole time…

You see, we lay with Gavin every night until he falls asleep.  I know, he is almost six years old, but the habit started when Ty was on hospice care and Gavin just upgraded out of a crib and into a big boy bed.  He was constantly getting up and coming into our room where Ty was sleeping and in pain, so we started lying with Gavin until he fell asleep soundly for the night.  After losing Ty, Gavin took his place in our bed and we don’t mind one bit (except for when his elbow is in my face while Lou and I cling to each side of the bed to accommodate his sprawling position). 

We found ourselves in a routine that works well enough each night, and neither of us want to go through the torture of breaking Gavin of this security.  He falls asleep in his own bed with one of us, we sneak out, then at some point in the middle of the night he climbs in between us to snuggle 'til morning.

For our bedtime routine we read a book, turn on the nightlight and the fan, lay in bed, say our prayers and go to sleep.  When I am with him, he just doesn’t stop asking questions and hugging and kissing me once prayers are over.  I love it so much, but it can make me crazy, too.  The last thing we do is tell Ty something about our day.  

Tonight we prayed for all of our loved ones, and we prayed for a cure for cancer – especially for the children.

“Does that mean Ty will be able to come back to life?”

“No honey, but it means other children like him won’t have to die from cancer.”

“What happens to your body when you die? What does it look like?”

I explained that people die in so many different ways, but no matter what happens their spirit leaves their body and the soul goes to heaven.

“How will I know to go to heaven when I die?  How do dead people know where to find God?”

Duh… I have no idea…

“I’m not sure but I think the other angels and spirits will help you find your way?” (cringing)

“Can you try not to die before me? I want to die at the exact same time as you.  Can we die together?  I would be so scared without you.”

That, Gavin, is exactly what I feared for Ty all those years he was fighting cancer.  It was the first thought I had when the reality of his cancer diagnosis was first explained to me in 2010.  I pictured my curly haired little baby alone in death and scared to let go of my hand.  The idea still haunts me sometimes, even though I am certain he is at peace.  

The only response I could muster was, "Okay."

Ty feeding Gavin ice cream.  This was 7 days before his diagnosis.

Baby "GaGa"


  1. I so wish he could come back...

  2. After my mom died when I was five, I swore I wanted to die when my dad did. As a child I couldn't imagine living life without them. Thankfully my dad lived a nice long time, long enough for me to have my own kids. Gavin is such a sweet soul. xoxo Donna

  3. Oh my tears. Much love to you today and everyday.

  4. He's such a smart kid...asking questions that a lot of us adults ponder. Thinking of all of you.

  5. Ty wasn't alone when he died. He was met by lots of loved ones.....he's just there, playing until the 2 of you meet once again.
    My heart breaks for you all. Prayers awlays.

  6. Oh Gavin, you will never be alone sweetheart. Not for a second. You got the best mom to make sure of that. This night routine is just so familiar to me and those converstaions are way too sweet but sometimes they can turn so serious and so sad. I promose you Cindy that every moment of the day thats all we mom ever think about to be there during most needed tough moments and Ty was with you. He just waited for the moment to make sure you will "allow" him to go. you did! as hard and as unbelievable that it was he needed your permission to make sure that you will be okay to let him leave so he can find his peace forever. his every sime his every tear his every pain you were there, you never left and you never will.

    Miss you millions billions times baby boy.