To Caleb, who helped me hone my early diapering skills: Godspeed to you. May you find the peace you were searching for.
Caleb is the younger brother of my friend. My friend (of 35 years) just let me know tonight that she buried her brother today. My friend and I are separated by too much distance and the busy-ness of life, and I know she didn't want to upset me (or my family), so I just found out this tragic news late tonight.
As very young girls, my friend and I would take care of Caleb - feed him, change his diapers (my first experience with diapers), comfort him, play with him. I remember on one "sleepover" night Caleb was crying and crying in the middle of the night, so I got him out of his crib and brought him to the bed with us. He might have been two years old. Looking back, I'm sure the parents were mortified I'd done this (they were probably teaching him to 'cry it out'), but I couldn't stand to hear him suffer. He told me he had had a bad dream.
Caleb was brilliant and funny and sweet. He leaves three young children (Charlie, Sam, and Bess) and a wife named Claire, and his sister, older brother, mother, and one niece and twin nephews. I envision Caleb and Wade (his father who passed too young also) making up for lost time.
And as a fellow mother, I wish Claire Herculean strength as she raises three kids by herself, and works to fill a deep hole left by their father's untimely death.