The boys fussed and whined all morning. I think steam started coming out of my ears around lunch time.
I caved... baby einstein won out and they were both thrilled with the outcome. I will admit, it is more entertaining now that they both move to the music.
As the boys enjoyed their video treat I listened to a message by a young mom who lost her baby girl. She is a believer and I was interested in what she had to say. I wanted to see if we were learning the same things, what she could teach me, what God had taught her. As she shared her story so many thoughts and memories came rushing back...
about my loss
about my hurt
about my sorrow
about my Caden
I remembered what it felt like to be a whole family. To watch Andy smile and cuddle his "so pretty" baby girl.
I remembered the time spent in the hospital watching helplessly as Doctors and nurses tried to revive our baby, they were like flash bulb images, they came fast and bright into my vision...I remembered looking at a nurse and saying "this isn't right, this isn't supposed to be happening." I remembered the look on the nurses face.
I remembered the empty feeling of walking back to our car, hand in hand... without her.
I put both boys down for their afternoon naps and heaved a sigh of relief. But after a few minutes of trying to go about my day normally... thoughts of Caden kept running through my mind.
I had a friend ask me recently if I made time for grief. The question caught me off guard. I stumbled around my answer, trying to think on the fly. I came up with..." I do not set aside time in my day for it, I just handle it accordingly as it hits me." Which sounded good at the time, but I have come to realize that I have not made time for it, or even dealt with it in awhile...
With naptime in session...maybe today was a good time...now.
So I walked down the hall to the office. Under the windows sits a white toy box. Inside is all the tangible of Caden I have left on this earth.
The layer of dust on the top of the box started my tears as a guilty feeling swept through me.
I am her mother kept playing over and over in my head... dust should not have the opportunity to touch her stuff...
As I opened the lid I saw pictures still in frames from her bedroom. I opened and looked through a scrapbook a precious friend had made me. I barely saw the pages through my tears...
how did she get through making this without puddles on her floor and stock in waterproof mascara???I spread my hands along the quilt made from Caden's clothes. I buried my face in the middle and wept for my sweet little girl. I picked up the bag of her pacifiers and memories long shoved aside came back into focus. I would always match her paci to her outfit...she had about 12. I opened the bag that held the mold of her hand. Beautiful and terrible all at the same time. I ran my fingers across hers and I remembered that I always used to open her hands and kiss her palms.
Her memories are in that box...her past, as well as some of her hoped-for future. Things that will always be hers even though she might never have touched them or knew they existed... in my mind, they are linked to her.
My tears were abundant today. My sorrow fresh. But even as my heart swells with hurt I rest confidently in the promise I will see her again. My temporary pain is bearable because I see a light at the end of this long tunnel...and that light is Heaven, Christ... eternity in paradise with my precious Caden. Sweet hope...
Lord come quickly.1 Thessalonians 4:16-18 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.
