Loss and growth…

The shock of loss still hits full force some nights. I walk through our home realizing how much has changed since you left. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember what was here before and what you would remember. This holiday weekend reminds me that it was your last visit home. It was your dear sister’s sweet 16 birthday that brought you back so quickly from school to celebrate. This weekend it is her 19th birthday. When I am asked how many children do we have and how old, you are always referred to as “forever nineteen.” How can it be that she will be nineteen now too?

Nights that sleep eludes me, always brings me to you. Photos never moved, clothes still untouched, your Christmas lights still hanging as you left them in your room. Oh, how a parents heart can ache for their child! Unfathomable grief, that strikes when we least expect. One month, one week, two years or three still brings us to our knees. A brave police officer recently spoke. I listened to him tell a story about going into an area without back up. He needed to act quickly to save lives. When people questioned him about why he did not wait for back up, his response was, “he needed to move quickly and he couldn’t be threatened with heaven.” I must agree.

Each day brings growth in this new life we lead. We think of you, every forward step we make. Everything we believe you could have been, is now our choice to see through. We continue to strive and serve, knowing we have tasks left to do. God has gifted us answers to our prayers. NOW, we take the time to look up and listen. Answers are there. Darkness turns into light as we fight the good fight. I pray our memory never fades, yet times make me wonder. Were you really here? Did you truly make me smile, through each and every tear?

A parent that has lost a child, never wants them to be forgotten. Is it our job to keep your memory alive? Each week I hear of another parent in our shoes. I wince knowing the full throttle of their pain. Empathy for those doing all they know, to keep an ill child alive. Praying for healing, hoping they never understand this pain. Quietly, quickly as I bow my head, the pain is lifted ever so gently from my shoulders. God hears my cries and brings the pain down to tolerate sleep. Good night my son. Our hearts ache, yet we know, each day is a day closer to being together again.

Peace and blessings,
MamaC

“I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint.” Jeremiah 31:25