Will

The last time that I was at the Stavlunds' house before Will died, as I was leaving, Mike said to me, "Have you not held Will yet?"
I said, "No, I still haven't".
He said, "The next time you come, we will make sure you get to hold him."
I said, "I'd love that."
I never got to hold Will.
I can't make sense out of Will's death in any shape, but I am so thankful for his life and that I got to meet him. To look into his eyes was to know that there was just so much there. It's hard to describe those eyes. "Deep" just doesn't seem to cut it, but they were certainly that. He seemed to take in everything around him to a degree that I've never seen before, in baby, child or adult. You couldn't be sure exactly what he was thinking when he looked at you, but you could be sure it would be insightful.
There was so much love around Will. People from all around the country and beyond loved him before he was even born. So many people followed his story and gave thanks and cried and laughed and prayed together. He created a new community based on love and prayer. I've made new friends based on our mutual interest in this little boy and his family.
In the wake of his death, these things will not dissolve. The great amount of love that came into being around him will not go away. The connections forged will not be dissolved. Will did more to make the world a better place in his four months than most adults do in their entire lives. The hole that his death leaves in our hearts and lives is a testament to how big he was and how much he did for us.