Keely and I were walking back to our hotel room Thursday morning when we spotted the sign by the pool.  It featured all of the day’s highlighted events for the resort’s guests.  Hot yoga had been on the beach earlier that morning at 8:30.  Tie dye shirts would take place by the pool at 11:30.  I scanned the rest of the events to the last thing on the list.  There was going to be a basketball shootout at 5:00pm.  I couldn’t wait to tell Dalton.  He was going to be so pumped.  Keely and I hurried up the three flights of stairs to room 381.  I fumbled in my bag for the room key and scanned it over the lock.  I turned the key and flung open the door.  I walked past the living room and frantically searched the bedroom for Dalton.  I scanned the whole place, even the balcony.  Walking back into the bedroom, I sat down on the bed and remembered he was dead.

This is not the first time it has happened.  About a month ago on a Sunday evening, I was out watering my flowers on the porch.  The dogs were sleeping lazily in the warm sun.  The sound of Troy’s yelling and crying from the kitchen startled me out of a trance.  I dropped the hose and ran over to the sliding glass door.  Never letting him know I was watching him, I stood stunned and confused.  Suddenly it occurred to me why he was crying.  Dalton was not here.  I had been believing all weekend that DD had been at Papa’s house.  Don’t ask me why.  I took off from the porch and started running, dogs following me on my heels.  I stopped somewhere north of my house and slumped down on the gravel road.  With two dogs nudging me to see what was wrong, I stayed and cried until I couldn’t cry any longer.  Later I would walk back to the house, finish watering my flowers, and never mention any word of this to anyone out of embarrassment.  Those two days were the longest I had hallucinated that Dalton was still here.  They had been two wonderful days.

Our family just returned from a week long vacation.  It was the first real family vacation we have gone on since the accident.  We had beautiful weather, lovely accommodations, and premier flight arrangements.  Normally, this type of a vacation would have thrilled us in every way.  Except, we were incomplete.  Like an amputee missing an arm or a leg, we were missing our boy.  My friend Ashlie describes it as this huge ball of grief we carry with us everywhere we go now.  Some days it is bearable and some days it anchors you in the least expected time and place.  So there we were, hundreds of miles away from home, and we had this gaping hole in all of our hearts.  We would be in a restaurant and Troy would say, “Dalton would love this place.”  Walking out of a movie, we had to check out the arcade.  Colton would laugh and say, “Dalton would waste so much money in here.”  Often at dinner we would exchange conversation about how much we miss him and how much he would love the beaches and staring at girls in their bikinis.  Our sadness would turn hopeful as either Troy or myself would remind the kids how wonderful everything is in heaven.  Troy would tell them how much fun Dalton was probably having.  I would insist that he was here with us in spirit and that he wanted us to not to be sad.  Then at night I would sneak out to the balcony after Troy was asleep and the kids were watching tv, and I would scream into a beach towel.  I would repeat every reassuring word I had told the kids and pray I believed them too.

Last night we took family pictures on the beach.  Part of me dreaded it because the images of the five of us taking beach pictures in West Palm Beach in Florida last spring were still so vivid in my mind.  Like usual Dalton had been the center of the attention and wouldn’t be serious for pictures.  I had offered to bribe him to smile with his teeth and of course he didn’t.  He grumbled every time I told him to let Keely stand in the middle for pictures (he always believed he should be the center of everything unless we are talking about the middle of the backseat).  Remembering these entertaining thoughts about the pics in Florida, we went ahead with taking the new pictures.  Never forgetting anything, Keely brought a framed picture of DD from our last family pic at the beach.  Setting her camera timer to capture the perfect family pic, the four of us backed up and held the beautiful picture of our boy in the center… right where he deserved to be.  We all took turns holding DD while we took each others pictures.  For the first time in the vacation, the atmosphere was pure genuine happiness. We are no professionals, but we think they turned out perfect.  Standing there in that deep sand and listening to the waves from the Atlantic Ocean, picture taking felt right.  Looking at the pic we were holding of him brought me peace.  He truly is there with us in many ways.

I am getting better at being able to laugh at the comedic stuff Dalton used to do.  Signing a bill from the pool bar had me laughing like a lunatic. I remembered our family trip to Belize when hotshot Dalton figured how to get the attention of the waitress and order his favorite drink (a virgin frozen pina colada).  He loved signing his name on those bills and writing his room number down.  It wasn’t until we were checking out from that hotel in Belize that we looked over the bar bill.  Dalton had ordered around $75 over the four days he was at the pool, signing the little receipts with Dalton Palmer in his 7th grade handwriting .  Apparently he didn’t mind ordering for his newfound friends either.

There are many pages in the Bible about people having to face tribulations in their lives.  I always knew I wouldn’t be any exception to this. But this type of tribulation seems like it’s too big at times.  I have asked God over and over why it happened.  However, my faith continues to strengthen.  I understand the pain God had to have been in to allow the Jews to call for the cruxifiction of his Son.  And I understand the grief the Blessed Virgin Mother felt as her only Son was about to be handed over to Pilate and his cronies.  They had to watch the whole gruesome scene play out before their very eyes.  Yet,  Jesus won.

Being a beveaved mother, I often focus on my fear instead of focusing on God,  There are a couple verses in Isaiah that help me to remember to always keep my eyes on Him.
 
“Fear not… for I am with you; do not look around you in terror and be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties… I am the Lord, Who says to you, Fear not; I will help you!”  (Isaiah 41:10,13)