Sunday, July 15, 2012

Remembering Trevyn

One year ago today, Trevyn Clint Farley flew to the heavens, and changed our lives forever.  He was just four years old, and so very beautiful, with big brown eyes and the longest eyelashes I've ever seen. 

 I'll never forget seeing his tiny body on that big hospital bed.  He was connected to so many tubes.  The room was filled with overwhelming machines that beeped intrusively.  We weren't allowed to touch him, or even sing a comforting song, as he lie on that gigantic bed in a coma.  

Trevyn's mommy?  How does one describe a truly broken heart?  Devastation doesn't even begin to touch upon it. I've only heard someone cry like that two times in my life. ShaNelle crumbled right before our eyes, completely broken. That was right after the doctors told her that Trevyn probably wasn't going to make it.  But still we hoped.  Don't we all hope right up until the last second at times like this?  

The day of the accident is still so vivid in my mind.  It WAS an ordinary day.  Then Rick called and told me that Trevyn had been in an accident.  A chest of drawers had fallen on his head, and he had been life-flighted to Primary Children's Hospital.  

When you hear the words "life-flight", you know it is the worst kind of injury.  And after Rick spoke those words, everything from that moment on is like a video in my brain.  I see all of the faces at the hospital that loved Trevyn so dearly, grief stricken and in shock.  Time ticked by as if in slow motion.

They told Shin that even if Trevyn lived, he would not be the boy we all knew.  And yet still we hoped.  We prayed.  We begged in our prayers.  Some of us tried to bargain with the Lord.  That is what desperate hearts do sometimes.  But in the end, we have to leave it in God's hands. 

Trevyn waited until his mommy left to leave his mortal body.  I think Trevyn knew that it would be easier for ShaNelle if he passed away quietly just after she had left the hospital room.  Even at his tender age of four years, he had the compassion to understand how impossible it would be for her to say goodbye.  I also think it would have been too difficult for him to say goodbye to his best friend since the day he was born.  His mom.

I wish I had something wise to say that would make sense of losing a child through such a tragic accident.  I still don't have the answers.  I wish I had a way to ease the pain of the ones I love, even just for a while.  But I honor the grieving that I've witnessed over this last year.  Trevyn's life meant something.  He was important.  He was loved and cherished beyond measure.  In Shinny's grief, Tracey's and Jim's, and, well, all of the rest us, our grief has shown that Trevyn Clint Farley's life was precious.  He will be loved forever.  

This I can say with certainty.  Trevyn is nearby.  He is an angel among us. He has visited some in dreams. He has left feathers for his Grandma Tracey.  He has sent messages and feathers to Shinny. He has entertained newborn babies and whispered messages in to ears that will listen. He has even sent a few rainbows.

Someone once said that you never get over  losing a loved one.  Especially a child.  But eventually you get used to it.  I can only hope that this is true.  For now, the wounds are still raw, and hearts are still broken.  And that is how it should be.  

We miss you, Trevyn.  We love you to the moon and back.