So now what?
We are home, parts of us, and act foolishly as if we will just pick up where we left off.
But the universe is altered. There has been a startling, oppressive shift in the density of matter. A vastly dense, penetrating gravitational pull has overtaken our world since a mere eight days ago. The center of this flawed and terrible physics pulses from a singularity lying perfectly still in a dark monitor-filled room in a Missouri hospital.
Because of it, an anvil rests just behind the sternum. If you had thought that “heavy heart” was merely a descriptive alliteration, know that it is in fact an altered cosmological property of grief. I am learning.
This massive weight bears down especially on one struggling life, mercifully unaware; on two who can only watch and very occasionally touch; and on a near orbit of solar-system kin who feel the pull even from a distance. And surprisingly—as if it were a discovery that should take me by surprise—there is a galaxy beyond us become visible, thousands of tiny more distant points of light, both named and unknown, whose orbits have been altered by this small pink center of one family’s universe, perturbed in their wobble and spin, their tides and climate by the extraordinary pull of one tiny baby.
The Greater Force for many of these distant living planets comes from an energy and bonding force that is invisible—Dark Matter’s opposite, perhaps—that connects them with Baby Henry. It is a wave-particle called Faith that they detect, know and transmit. By it, those hearts through Hubble lenses see beyond the visible, beyond mere matter, past the edge of The Present and that which can be measured. And given those collective forces for Good in this small life, things change in ways we will someday understand. But not yet.
Meanwhile, the weight seems such that nothing can move against it. And yet it has.
In Missouri for our short stay, I watched my son and daughter-in-law, my wife and daughter lift that heavy load waking moment after waking moment. And we grew stronger, apart and together. I was amazed. It is a kind of weight training no one would undertake on purpose, but when it becomes a cosmic duty nourished by the energy of a constellation of Light and Hope, I can now see how one might grow muscle, sinew, strength and a fumbling kind of agility. Or not. It is a wonderful, dangerous, perplexing, enlightening time.
From yesterday’s CaringBridge entry by Nathan…
…His wonderful nurses, who at the moment were tending to us as much as to Henry, also let us wet his lips and put lotion on his hand (both of us took turns, as if he needed that much lotion!). While little in his charts had changed, the power of touch filled us with new hope and an even deeper love for Henry. We hope he felt it too.
We also got to see his big blue eyes, as the nurse momentarily took his blinders off to wash his face…