Caleb

In my last blog post I explained that I've been working at a daycare near my house. I also mentioned a particular child with big expressive blue eyes that just stole my heart right out of my chest. A one year old little boy with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that is going to serve to bless him with ease of life, though his natural spunky nature may find him in hot water more often than most boys will ever be in. I asked spirit, "what is the connection between this child and I?" I knew that though, this child does bear a physical resemblance to my own boys when they were small like him, there was more to it than that. Even though spirit didn't reply right away, and I thought it may be a lost cause trying to figure it out, the feeling tugged at me. It was that strong.

Finally my guides blessed me with the information lost to me during the transitions my soul has encountered since I last spent a lifetime with this child's soul. 

I was a young woman. My name was Emily. I was married to a wonderful, kind and loving man. He would become the father of my firstborn child, a son. We were beyond happy, everything went to plan. Until our son, then named Caleb (Jackson in this lifetime), was taken from us at the tender age of four years old. He was hit by a horse and buggy, which back then, was like being hit by a car. When I see this small child, he's got a beautiful blonde crop of hair, and he's dressed in church clothing, a light peach button up shirt, and slacks of some kind. Maybe they're blue. 

After Caleb passed away Emily (me in a past life) would never be the same person. She bore several more children. Her loving husband remained devoted, a faithful family man, but Emily never recovered from this loss of her firstborn son. Her husband would beg her to be okay, to come back to life, tell her that he and the children needed her, but she felt she couldn't love like she had before. 

I'm seeing Emily and Caleb through her sweet memories of him as an infant in her arms. She's holding him while sitting in a chair, possibly a rocking chair, playing with his tiny fingers, thinking to herself how perfect is he. She's clothed in a white gown, probably a nightgown, her long, sandy colored, curly hair cascades naturally and elegantly, for slept in hair. She's a beautiful, glowing, happy young mother holding her firstborn son, never anticipating the nightmare that is to fall upon them.

Now that I understand my connection to Jackson, I feel less like a sad older woman who misses her young children in this lifetime. I know that lifetimes come and go, and that souls don't always reunite. This is just more proof, that though I had planned a more glorious life for myself, that my path was no mistake. I was meant to heal that past hurt by meeting my then son again in this lifetime, and to finally let Emily rest in peace. What little peace a mother who has lost a child will ever find. 

I am also thinking of a little boy named Michael Thomas as I allow this story to unfold. That's not a story I really want to get into, but I was able to remember my own lost child this past year. It was a memory lost in the catastrophic happenings that occurred when I was seventeen. I remember him. I loved him. I wanted him. Essentially, Michael Thomas was murdered in my second trimester, in utero. Like Emily, I yearn to hold a child who has passed on in my arms. Instead, I have only the hope that someday I will be led to his burial plot where I can lay roses on his little grave. 

Life is so fleeting sometimes. A big soul in a little body chooses to live sometimes, just hours, days, weeks, or months, instead of a lifetime where they will grow old. But the footprints they leave on your heart, they linger forever.