While discussing my recent love of running with a friend of mine, she told me how much running personally saved her. She said that was her time to clear her head and pray. I share a special bond, one I would prefer not to have, but a bond nonetheless, with this friend. Her mother is fighting cancer and I've watched her ride the support rollercoaster...a ride I know all too well. When she told me that she would run and pray, my heart lurched, as I knew what she was praying for.
While running a few nights ago, our conversation played in my head. I thought about Mom and how much I missed her. She would have been proud of what I was accomplishing. Sometimes, when I need strength, I find myself "talking" to Mom, in my head, asking for her guidance. I ask her to watch over me or to help me make whatever decision I'm struggling with. There have been so many times that I have felt her close and I know that she is ever present in my life.
That night, however, my thoughts turned to Carter. My angel baby should be 2 1/2 now, just a little older than Peanut. I feel at peace with his loss now, however I do think of him, often. I found myself talking to Carter, as I ran, telling him that I loved him and missed him. I pictured him as a tiny, little boy, running along behind me and I swear I could almost hear him giggling.
As I approached the last half mile of the run, I was struggling. I was tired and sore and didn't know if I had it in me. I found myself asking Carter to come run with me and help me. "Come run with Mommy, Carter. Come hold my hand."
I don't care what you do or don't believe, but I felt a warmness and calm come over me, just then. Suddenly, my calves were no longer hurting and I was not struggling to breathe, like I had been. My heart rate slowed and I felt light. I knew he was there and I fought off tears, as I easily finished the last half mile.
My baby boy had come to run with his Mommy. <3