Porter

To say Saturday was a hard day would be an understatement.

It was, without a doubt, the most emotionally difficult day of my life thus far.

Sam and I were *fortunate* enough to attend a Memorial Service for Porter Matthew Rudd. Porter turned two on March 2nd. He went to sleep on Thursday night and never woke up. The poor baby died from the flu that his parents didn't even know he had. He wasn't even sick. The loss is just so consuming. I have no idea how his parents are even able to cope, get up, walk around. I asked his dad if he'd eaten yet on Saturday night at dinner. His response, "I can't remember."

Our hearts are breaking for Becky and Mike. They are just kind of adrift and alone and floating out there. All the prayers and thoughts, I'm sure will be helpful and appreciated. Right now though, they are just in a little bubble and not really aware of much of anything.

We didn't take Ella and Anna to the service for obvious reasons. But also the fact that Ella has recently developed a small understanding of death and life. I, we, really did not want to have this conversation with her. We did, however, after much prodding, bring the girls to the dinner after the service. Both of us were very hesitant to bring our children to this poor mother who has just lost her only child. I don't even think she noticed they were there until she got up to leave. At which point she asked if she could hug and hold Anna - our Anna who is only 5 months younger than Porter. They both wanted to hold her and talk about her and I can't even imagine. My heart is breaking for them.

We've just been holding our girls a lot closer and have become a little more aware of them since we first got the news.

There was something said at the service that I keep thinking of - and I know I can't always be afraid of something happening but right now it is where I am. Becky and Mike wrote a letter to Porter and although I'm sure I'll butcher the exact wording it was something along the lines of:
We record all the firsts; the first word, the first steps, the first foods -
but it is the lasts that are the most important.

They then listed his last meal, his last jammies, his last words, their last words to him, his last book before bedtime, the toys he played with before his final bedtime.

Simple little things that we always take for granted and now that's all they have left of their sweet little son.

Becky and Mike we love you and we pray that some way you will find your way through this.