When you live in the world without part of your heart (figuratively speaking) the question train never stops. Sometimes the questions are more in the category of “what ifs” or “could I”, but sometimes the questioning is more of a ponder. Though I continue to play the “what if” game and probably will indefinitely, I find myself pondering a bit more these days. When you have other small children at home, you’re constantly reminded that something is missing. In my home, there’s a third little personality missing.
We all say that our oldest is my husband made over. He tends to favor him in the looks department, and he very much so has his personality. He longs to be like his dad, so it would only be logical that he would claim to love what dad loves. Our youngest looks a lot more like me, but who he takes after is really yet to be determined. Since birth we’ve said that he is the mild-mannered one. He is quickly proving us wrong. Right now he is in the stage where he has learned that he can do what his brother does, and so he does.
So, where would Wyatt fit in? What would Wyatt’s claim be in our family if he was here terrorizing the house with his brothers? Although B favors my husband and our little favors me, you can still tell that they’re brothers just by looking at them. I feel that Wyatt would fit that mold as well. In some pictures, he would look more like me and in others, more like my husband. Would he fit the stereotypical characteristics of a middle child? Would he be assertive like his brothers since that is really the only way we know how to do things in our home (parents included)?
I know for sure that he would be his own person. Like his brothers, no one would define him or cram him into their design. I’m sure all in heaven that know him completely agree with that. I’m sure that even up there they are saying, “Here comes that Welch boy.” I’m sure that they laugh at his shenanigans and shake their heads because what else are you going to do with him.
That’s the thing, when you’re able to see your children grow up, you still ponder these thoughts. The difference is that you get to see the result. Your imagination isn’t all that you have. The other night, my oldest asked me to tell him a story about Wyatt. I was puzzled at how I was going to do this, so I began telling a story of while I was pregnant. He quickly stopped me and redirected me to come up with a story about Wyatt in heaven. I explained that I didn’t know what heaven was like so making up a story would be hard. He reassured me that it would be fine saying, “mom its just playing tend (pretend).” So, I came up with a story about Wyatt playing and making cloud castles like he makes sand castles. Before I could get much else out, he interjected with “a dinosaur came and knocked it over.” I just laughed.
I won’t know Wyatt’s memories. I’ll just have to pretend and imagine until that day that he can tell me all about it. With love-Heather