Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Abba, Father

Today has been...a day. It wasn't an anniversary date with Barrett, but my heart was weighed down with his absence. My desire to hold him was overwhelming. It was one of those days where I just had this feeling of not knowing what to do with my arms in his absence.

He was on my mind all day. I replayed the day of his birth over and over again and it was so real that I could hear The Weather Channel discussing then Tropical Storm Isaac. I could feel that desperation that comes with being consumed by a feeling of helplessness knowing that your baby has died and there is nothing you can do about it.

When I finally made it through the day...through work and church and my husband asked me what was wrong, the only words I could muster were "I miss Barrett". That simple statement is so profound. Within it lies so many emotions and scars and would have beens.

Those three words summed up my entire day and the last 2 years, 11 months, and 20 days. Those three words sum up the heavy weight that knowing his birthday is only eleven days away carries. 

Sometimes I take the emotions of his death and try to explain them with detailed illustrations. But tonight, that's all I have. I miss him...I just miss him.

And every tear I cried as I sat in my car after work today held enormous amounts of love. The love for my son and the pain of navigating the path of parenting a child who isn't alive spilled out onto my steering wheel in big, ugly, crocodile tears. 

And in that moment, I was so thankful that, even when I don't know the words to pray, God knows what is on my heart. I am grateful that I can come to him and call Him "Father". I would be lost without that peace that surpasses all understanding that overcame me as I sat there in my car symbolically curled up in my Savior's lap with no words, but knowing that He knows them all anyway.

My sweet boy, your purpose is incredible. I am blessed to watch it unfold. Your life has been the source of countless smiles the last few weeks. I love you. So, so much. I dream of our reunion when I can run like never before and scoop you up in my arms and finally fill that aching void.

At self-defense class last night I was wearing a shirt that says "There is No Finish Line" and I love it because, in that aspect, there is no finish line. There is always room for improvement. But as I thought about it more in depth and spent that drive home as some quiet time with God, I could see my finish line. My finish line is my reunion with you and an eternity with our merciful Savior who graciously blessed me with the hope of seeing you again.

Gosh I love you. You are so loved and so wanted. You are so missed. Until that blessed day when I can hold you again, I will carry you in my heart. I will carry your name and do my best to make sure that you are never forgotten here on Earth. I will mother you as best I can figure out how to in your absence. Your life, though brief, is so cherished. God packed a lot of purpose in a tiny person. I am so, so proud to be your mom. 

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