Forever 17

Early in my grief journey as I connected more with other parents who had lost children, I started noticing the word Forever followed by the age the child was when they died. “My sweet little Jacob, forever 13.” Or, “Megan’s Mom, forever 21.” It didn’t make much sense to me. I didn’t think of Luke being stuck in time forever. I thought of him as moving on to the next phase, being in heaven, progressing. The concept of him being forever 17 was foreign to me and didn’t resonate. 

Fast forward a few months to the spring of 2020 and his friends were graduating high school. I started getting graduation announcements from his peers. I saw lots of facebook posts about college plans and mission trips and life after high school. It made me a little sad, but I still felt like Luke was part of it all. We went to the graduation ceremony and were honored when his name was called with his classmates. We got a diploma for him because he had earned enough credits to graduate. He was still getting mail from colleges and universities. 

Then in July we celebrated our first birthday without him, his 18th birthday. Normally that is a big milestone. It’s the age you become an adult. It was strange to celebrate a milestone that hadn't arrived yet. Or had it? I  wondered if there are celebrations in heaven on one’s earthly birthday. It’s funny the questions you never think about until you have a reason. 

Recently a friend I hadn’t seen in a while asked how old my kids are. She knew Luke had passed away, so I didn’t have to explain that. Still it was a question I hadn’t been asked before and I stumbled over the answer. I forgot how old Luke was! I still feel dumb about that 6 months later. How could I forget how old he was? Or would be? Or is? I didn’t even know what verb to use! It was an awkward moment, a not so great parenting moment for me. How do you not know how old your kids are? When one is in heaven, I guess. 

Our youngest daughter was 14 and a freshman in high school when Luke died. He was 17 and a senior. This summer Bryn turned 17 and began her senior year. When she hit 17 and 4 months, I felt it. Something unnatural was happening. Luke lived 17 years and 4 months. She had now outlived her older brother. 

I took Bryn to get her senior pictures done. She wanted a perfect fall day, which is what we got. It was warm and windy with beautiful colors on the trees. Bryn looked like a model. As I watched her, my thoughts turned to Luke. We had not gotten Luke’s senior pictures done. It’s one of my many regrets because I would love to have those pictures now. I wanted to do it in the fall, but that fall our world was turned upside down as Luke was hospitalized and then went into an intensive treatment program for depression. Little things like senior pictures took a backseat. I had planned to have some with him sitting at a grand piano. And he probably would have done some with his cello. Those things were his life and what he most loved. Now the best we have is a headstone in the shape of a grand piano with a picture of him playing the cello. In small print on the bottom, it reads “Class of 2020.” 

One of my favorite places to visit in Indiana in the fall is a little town called Nashville. We took the kids there one day over their fall break. On the way home, we drove around IU to check out the campus with Bryn. I couldn’t help but think about how we would have stopped by to visit Luke in his dorm or apartment. IU was a top choice of his and I think that’s where he would have gone. Maybe he and Bryn would have gone there together. Of course I will never know, but sitting with that thought makes me happy. Just like he helped her learn the ropes of high school, he might have helped her with college too. 

The harsh reality is I’m stuck with memories of only 17 years and nothing more. His little sister and his friends are moving on, passing him by in life milestones and experiences. 

Of course, we know Luke is in a better place. We know we will see him again. We know he is still part of our family and always will be. But it’s now becoming more real that 17 years was all we got with him here. He is, in some ways, forever 17. While that thought kind of depresses me, it also makes me cherish and love those 17 years all the more. ❤️


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