Tiny Hands

Through the challenges and suffering we have been faced with over the past month we also decided to officially open our own chiropractic office. Yes, at this point I think we have gone crazy. We have been struggling to design the perfect logo for our new practice and have gone through about 10-12 different designs. All good but none perfect. Ugh, will we ever get this small step marked off the to-do list?

Completely unrelated to our new business and logo design challenge I was faced with another challenge this afternoon. Emerald Hills, the cemetery and funeral home, called today and said Elijah's prints were ready to be picked up and I could come in today. With my stomach in knots I walked through the doors of the funeral home and immediately got a lump in my throat. A breakdown was right around the corner. Luckily, so was the funeral director with Elijah's prints in her hand. She was waiting on me - she knew I didn't want to have to stay in that building where I held my son for the last time any longer than necessary.

I knew what I had just picked up and I wanted to see Elijah's tiny hands and feet on those pages but at the same time I couldn't look. I couldn't stand to see only prints. Sweet, perfect, prints of tiny hands and feet I used to hold in my hands and kiss. Unbearable. How do I not have the real thing in my hands right now? How is Elijah gone? How do I only have prints?

I opened the paper, saw two beautiful hands and placed mine over them. The tears poured down my face and onto my shirt. Panic crossed me as I thought the tears may have dropped on the prints. When I looked down to check the integrity of the inked handprints of Elijah, it hit me. I held the perfect logo for our business in my hands. Elijah's hand.

I rushed home and immediately put together a draft of the design I had in mind. That draft was also the final design. Now, each day at home and in our office, Elijah will be with us.