“I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” ~ Psalm 139:14
My son was fearfully and wonderfully made.
I just wish he was still here to be fearful and wonderful with us. I am jealous of how strong he was, all the way to the end. He was never weak, not at any moment.
I had a flashback as I was driving home from work. The same road I traveled that day, close to the same time, about the same amount of traffic…I think. I still don’t remember everything. I do remember driving with my head against the window screaming. How I could see, I have no clue. I now remember calling Kerri. She didn’t answer so I texted her while I was driving excessively fast to call me asap. I recall laying on the ground and someone said “Kerri is calling her, answer it”. They had to tell her.
I keep seeing my sweet child in the casket. It’s been happening more often. There’s nothing to compare it to. Walking barefoot on glass sounds more appealing than this particular memory. Seven months later, this is honestly the first time I’ve seen this image this many times. I’ve locked it away until now. And I have no idea why my subconscious has brought it to the surface.
Crazy what the mind tends to remember at certain times. Then I start forgetting again.
I also remember the night before my birthday. It stormed… lightening, thunder, rain, and again in that order. Joe was at work and I was still staying at my mother-in-law’s house. Joe’s truck is super sensitive and every time it thundered, the alarm would go off. I would giggle and tell Zane to stop. I just knew he was telling me happy birthday (the next day I got his signature and duck drawing tattooed on my arm). He loved stormy weather. We would stand at the front door together and watch the rain. Not long before he died it hailed and that’s exactly where we were…the front door watching.
As much as I love my morning paper, also known as Facebook, sometimes I have to take a break for a day or two. But unlike others I do not announce it in a post. I was scrolling through, liked a few pics, and things progressively got gloomy. The class rings. While I am happy for the Class of 2019, I am sad for my baby boy. He wasn’t there getting his ring. He won’t be with his class walking across that stage next year. No graduation party. But I still have to deal with it. I have to be there for his squad. How am I going to do this?
Just promise his name will be said. Just promise he will never be forgotten. He loved all of you, just love him always.