There Are No Words

Well, we made it through the day.  Our little Granty was laid to rest today, with a personalized giraffe mat draping his tiny casket.  I don't think there was a dry-eye in the church, but we did manage to have a beautiful service and burial honoring our little boy.  Shortly after the service at the cemetery concluded no one seemed to want to leave, but the skies opened up and it began pouring rain....a sign that it was time for us to head to the luncheon.

The lunch provided a nice conclusion to the day.  The church hall was filled with stuffed giraffes and balloons, providing a bit of cheer on such a somber day.  It was a great celebration of our baby boy, complete with beautiful speeches from family and friends.  Damon and I are so humbled and encouraged by the support we have received throughout the day; the spirit of love, hope, faith and family that we have felt is truly a testament to Grant and his legacy.

I summoned enough strength to deliver the eulogy (no meltdown nor need for my brother to finish).  I will never be able to capture and articulate the full essence of my beloved Grant, but I hope the eulogy below made him proud:

June 3, 2012 - - - my beloved Grant is born.

There Are No Words....

There are no words that can capture the joy Damon and I felt when Grant entered our lives in the early morning of June 3^rd, 2012.  When I first laid eyes on my little boy, I remember exclaiming, “He looks just like Alexa!”, as Damon looked at me like I was crazy that I was able to find a resemblance in a boy who wasn’t even 10 seconds old.  It was love instantly.

There are no words that can describe the completeness that Grant brought to our family.  At the ultrasound in which we found out I was carrying a boy, I remember how Damon’s ears literally perked up at the news - - he had his ‘variety pack’…a girl and a boy.  I will never forget how excited Alexa was to meet her beloved baby brother, and, after she got over the initial disappointment that he wasn’t “big” or an instant playmate, she immediately embraced her big sister role and coined the name “Granty.”  We were a perfect family of four.

There are no words that can adequately describe the joy Grant brought to our lives.  Although we had a few all-nighters and drives around Scottsdale at 3am, Granty had a fantastic disposition and was a very easy baby.  He loved bathtime, and if Alexa wasn’t helping me give him a bath, that usually meant she had crammed herself into his baby bathtub so that she and Granty could take a bath together.  Grant helped to complete our family dynamic, and he could usually be heard happily babbling in his monkey bouncy seat or squawking loudly if he didn’t feel he was getting enough attention.  Since Damon was usually at work, Alexa, Grant and I had developed our nightly routine, and it became more fun and interactive the older Grant became.  Alexa and I would play with Granty, hold him up to make him dance or joke about him eating her food while she’d pretend to drink his formula.  When he learned to sit in the Bumbo seat, Grant was usually perched in the center of the table while we would eat dinner.  We would laugh, make him coo and sing songs Alexa had learned that day in school.  Pure joy.

There were no words needed to elicit one of my favorite responses from Grant.  Oftentimes when I would lean in to kiss my baby boy, I would begin with an “Ahhh” to let him know I was coming in for a kiss.  He quickly developed a conditioned response to hearing the “Ahhh”, and it didn’t matter if I was across the room or right next to him, I could always count on my Granty boy to open his mouth and ready himself to return my kiss.  This simple sound always elicited the same response and brought a smile to my face and proudness in my heart.

There are no words to describe the devastation and grief that Damon and I felt on the night of September 27^th, when Grant was first diagnosed with a brain tumor.  However, as if to assure us everything would be okay, Grant continued to be his normal cheerful self, charming all nurses he met and quickly tagging himself as the most popular patient in PICU.  His sunny disposition continued to provide strength and support for Damon and myself, and on the morning of his biopsy, he busted into a bout of laughter unlike anything we’d heard from him before.  The sound of his laugh is imprinted in my mind, and just thinking about his sweet giggle brings a smile to my face.  After all he went through - - surgeries, lumbar punctures, blood draws and chemo - - I can honestly say that my Granty never had a bad day.  His personality was effervescent and his smile was infectious.  Being with Grant made me happy, and I soaked up every minute I could spend with my little ‘Mommy’s boy.’

Grant needed no words to make a lasting impact upon the world.  The blog initially began as a site in which I could keep everyone informed of Grant’s condition, but Grant himself, not my words, turned it into so much more.  My cousin Sara said it best: “How incredible that such a sweet boy who never uttered a single word could be one of the best teachers of life’s greatest lessons?”  The lessons my beloved Granty taught us are too numerous to count: not sweating the small stuff in life, the value of family, maintaining a positive disposition even in the toughest situations…the list goes on and on.  Grant was living his life to the fullest, and through the chronicling of his daily activities and vivacious personality, he inspired hundreds, if not thousands, of people.  Grant provided a new perspective on life, one rooted in hope, faith, family, and, most importantly, love.  Grant was love.

There are no words to explain the sadness and emptiness that we feel in our hearts for the loss of our beloved Granty.  I miss my baby boy – the snuggling, his angelic eyes, the babbling, his smile, his kisses, seeing him clutch his beloved giraffe blankie – more than I can ever describe. This void in my heart will never disappear, but I am determined to preserve the legacy of this amazing and magnificent boy. His spirit will always be with me, and he will always be in the forefront of my mind.  I have a new-found love of giraffes, Granty’s official mascot, and will always think of my precious boy whenever I see one.  In his 175 days of life, Grant made me a better person, a better wife and a better mother. 

There will be no words needed when I see my beloved Granty again.  I’ll simply say, “Ahhh” and wait for his kiss.