Letting myself remember

Today was a busy day. Cleaning, playing...the normal Saturday family stuff to do. Then, my dear friend came over to visit. We started talking about different things and I mentioned that one of Caleb's friends was now 18 and was graduating from high school. She just smiled and asked me if I ever thought about that kind of thing and let myself "go there". It was a normal question for our friendship. We have no boundaries or walls with each other and are very real with one another.

Tears came to my eyes as I let myself remember. I rarely "go there" with anyone other than Bryan and just a few others. It is something I just have a hard time doing. I can talk about the boys, even tell stories and go on for a long time....but seldom do I REALLY let myself remember the feelings. The difficulty in knowing that all of the boys friends lives have gone on and I will never get to experience that for myself. Just the knowledge that the grief never goes away. I will always have to guess at where they would be... The pain of loss triggers so many things. I ache to know if I would have a grandchild soon, now....ever. Wondering if they would live close....be involved with their brother and sister now....everything!!! Not only does my heart ache for them, but my arms ache to hold them. To look into their eyes and tell them I love them. To listen to their voices. To see their smiles..... Sometimes when I let myself feel all of it, it seems like too much. Like I can't breathe. If I do, the pain will be too much to bear. If Bryan is around, I will curl up and let myself completely go. Or, I imagine crawling into the lap of God and feeling His arms around me and just allow the hurt to be there for a while. One thing I have learned is it is okay to "go there".....even healthy. But, it is not okay to stay there. There is always something that will pop into my mind to remind me of the joys. The joys of having the boys....the joys of having my children now. The joys of life are so numerous. Allowing the sun to come in and be seen, ever so slightly through the dark clouds. I think that is His way of reminding us, "Hey, I am still here. If you focus on Me, I will make these clouds go away. They may return....in a memory, a song or a difficult time. But I am always on the other side of the clouds." So I try to focus on the joy, the Son, not the clouds...

Tears of loss. Tears of knowing that my kids will have to explain the pictures of their brothers in our house. "Yes, those are my brothers....No, they died before I was born....They live in heaven with Jesus.....their daddy shot them." How do I prepare them for that? I know.. I don't. He does.

Tears of joy. Tears of Bryce ending his second grade year with enthusiasm for school and looking forward to third grade. Tears of joy anticipating him playing football in the fall....something his brother never got to do. Tears of watching my baby girl walk the stage in her cap and gown and knowing that I will look forward to watching her and Bryce walk the stage at their high school graduation.

Tonight I thought about death. Not just the boy's death. Not just mom's. But mine. Not so much about the actual act of dieing, but of my purpose on this earth. The part I am here to play. To prepare my children. To make a difference to someone. To share Christ. His hope, His grace, His love. It becomes more apparent to me that this is more important than I have ever realized. I can't coast through this life. It is all I am given. I need to grab it and live it. I need to remember. I need to feel. I need to share.