Thinking of Johnny

I was traveling on business a few weeks ago and was going through some final preparations before presenting to a large group of people at an industry conference. One of my colleagues that was with me asked if I was getting nervous as the room was filling with people. He was going to introduce me before I gave the presentation. I speak publically all the time for my work so presentations to large groups of people are routine. I looked at him and said, “No.” Clearly he was the one that was nervous.

Before speaking publically in front of a group of any size, my mind often drifts to the same place…..to Johnny’s funeral. I spoke that day about Johnny, our brief time together with him, what he meant to us, our grief, and our sadness. I shared about the excitement of his birth, the joy of seeing his big sister love him and play with him, and the emptiness of our loss. I doubt I will ever speak in front of a group of people again that is as significant as that day. That’s what I think about every time now before I speak before a group of people. Compared to that day, whatever I am going to present at the moment seems much less significant.

And so it goes for us. Johnny’s life and death and all the events in between remain a central focal point and backdrop for everything in life. In many ways, all the joy, emotion, and intensity of that period of time is what the experience of today is weighed against. Our four months with him after his birth was both wonderful, especially when we had him home, and incredibly intense and difficult at times, when he was in the hospital and during his surgeries. To this day, despite some of the hard times, I still believe it brought out some of the best in us. After his death, we felt somewhat lost for awhile. What do you do when the person that creates so much intensity and emotion in your life, in addition to the fact that you love them so dearly, is suddenly gone? Even now after the time that has passed I often find myself pausing with the thought that something so significant is missing from our lives. It’s easy to figure out what that feeling is. It’s Johnny.

I finished my presentation that day just fine. Everything went well. My colleague was relieved. I’ve developed some good skills to function well at the task at hand, even with Johnny on my mind. Like most things, my enthusiasm and ability on the outside anyway probably doesn’t appear any different during many everyday tasks. But inside, my thoughts and perspective are often much different then they were just a year ago.

It’s been 7 months since we said goodbye. Next month is Johnny’s birthday. He remains in our thoughts in all that we do, and we wouldn’t want it any other way.