So today I kissed a piece of paper Dominic wrote around 2003 or 2004. It was sacred to touch what he once touched.
I kept repeating, “I love you. I love you.”
It isn’t much but it’s all I have left.
I was tidying up some things I’ve been lazy about in anticipation of my dad’s second knee replacement surgery next week. There was a pile of cards and miscellaneous papers that my cats had knocked down from what I thought was a safe perch.
I gathered them up, looking, as always, for any hint of Dominic’s distinctive handwriting.
And there it was. His goals for some forgotten year when I had made the children write them down.
It was SO him. They were complete with illustrations.
I know folks want to hear the triumphant victory of faith over grief. And some days that is my testimony.
Some days I am able to lean in, take hold of hope and declare the goodness of God.
But some days-or some moments– my mama heart cries out for the physical presence of the child I carried, the child I fed at my breast and the child I nurtured until he grew into a man.
There’s no cure for that.
You just have to let the sadness and longing wash over you. The tears must fall.
I’m sure tomorrow will be a better day.
Today I’m just waiting for night to fall and sleep to come. ❤
thelifeididntchoose 