A public thank you

I have learned a lot because of Cohen. I'm still learning a lot. I think I will keep learning because of him for the rest of my life. Sometimes I'm still not sure what happened the first year after Cohen. It feels like a fog. Cloudy. I wanted to see and understand but I didn't. Or couldn't. I try, even now, to see what exactly the Lord was doing or saying to me then. And I can see more now. Much more. Not everything, not at all. But much more. Some things will take longer to see. Some things are not as obvious or are covered with pain and questions. Those things will take more pursuit of the Lord. More of the Lord's grace.

But some things were evident very quickly and very clearly. One of those things is the measure of friendship the Lord has given me. I have the kind of friends that no one deserves. People who have known how to love me in joy and in loss in ways I didn't know I needed to be loved. I could write blogs upon blogs of examples, and maybe I should. Maybe I will. But for now, I will write one example. One example of a gift my friends have given me that has literally left me speechless.

Here is the gift.





And here is the story behind this gift.

After Cohen died, and shawn and I were still in Seattle, these friends wanted to do something in memory of him. They wanted to give me a gift that's purpose was to honor him. They tossed around the idea of planting a tree here in Charlotte. For a bunch of reasons that didn't quite work out. They have celebrated his life with me and cried with me a gazillion times since then, so I've never felt like they didn't do anything to remember him-concrete gift or not. But, unbeknownst to me, they hadn't stopped looking for a way to really remember him in some tangible way.

A few weeks ago my best friend from high school, Jackie, planned a fundraiser for a local non profit and invited us. There was a silent auction at said event. One of the auction items was this beautiful painting of two trees intertwines with deep roots in the ground (much like the above picture). I loved it. It reminded me of the boys. How they grew together and how they will always be connected. I couldn't stop talking about it. But it was not in our budget to bid on it. I talked to the artist at the event and asked what his inspiration was and told him how much I appreciated his work. But I didn't tell him my story. I just thanked him for painting it.

My friend Hillary, however, DID tell him my story. And my friends commissioned this artist to paint a piece for me to remember Cohen. He was so touched by their gift to me and the story that he painted a much large piece than they asked for. He wrote Cohen (left side) and Pearce (right side) in the roots and titled the piece Souls Live Forever.

I love everything about this painting. I love the colors, the meaning, the heart behind it. ( I even love how they gave it to me, which was hilarious bc they sat me down like they were doing an intervention and really freaked me out. I kept thinking, what have I done that they all need to talk to me about??) I love that it literally makes me joyful and sorrowful at the same time. Something that has been exceedingly difficult to master. I was and am so moved by their intentionality. That two years later they have not moved on. They have not forgotten. They have not stopped looking for ways to keep Cohen a part of our family and their lives.

It is impossible to explain what it feels like to lose a child. And though as time goes on it gets easier to live life normally, to look held together, to laugh, to joke, to be busy with your other children, it does not get easier to miss him. I do not miss him less. I do not hurt less when I think about him. But I would expect people around me to forget a little. Or to assume I am not sad anymore. That in some ways I have moved on. That maybe I don't cry anymore when I think of him. They have not assumed this. Two years later they found the perfect way to set Cohen, visibly, in our home and in our family. They thought to do this because they were paying attention. They were watching me and listening to things I wasn't even saying out loud. And because of this they have helped me stay steady. Because of this they have given me a gift that even they probably don't really understand the depth of.

Thank you Jackie. Thank you Hillary. Thank you Leighton. Thank you Lauren. Thank you Drew.

Thank you Lord for these friendships that I have not earned.