Today is Jonah's fifth birthday. My kids always remember this day and they like to talk about him. I guess it sticks in part because Lars and Jonah would be the same age. Lars especially seems connected to him. He asked me today if he had met Jonah. I told him, "Sort of. You were in the same room. But you were both babies." He talks about him and asks about him (year round, not just on his birthday). I'm glad. I miss him. It might seem odd to miss someone who I only spent a few days with. But I do.
I guess the feeling is partly about how I feel for Harry and Dawn, as his parents. It's partly about missing what could have been, what place he would hold in our family and the funny stories we'd tell about him and the goofy things he would do, and the great things he would do, and who he'd grow up to be. That seems silly to dwell on though. More than missing him I'm glad to have met him. I'm glad for that small piece of my heart that cracked open and let in more love than I thought I had room for. Harry and Dawn made that possible. They helped open all our hearts by their example and by the way they welcomed him into their home which was a very sacred place for the duration of Jonah's life. I'll never forget it.
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I took flowers to Jonah's grave today - I do often - and when I go, I think about the brief time we all had with him - and how it has had such a big impact in our lives. I had to do a lesson at camp on a talk by President Monson's daughter Ann entitled Holy Places in Our Lives and one of the first things I thought of was those days with our dear little Jonah. I explained it to the girls and they all seemed to understand what I was talking about. And I was impressed that even 5 years after his brief sojourn, he is still influencing lives.
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