It was 2:00 a.m. when my water broke and began the most amazing, gratifying, joy-filled, gut-wrenching, heart-rending 33 years, 5 months, 13 days and 2 hours of my life. My son, Chad, was born this day, August 25th and I so miss the sparks, flames, and warmth that his life kindled in my heart. I cannot begin to write what I truly feel. I just know that though the world keeps turning, the moon keeps shining, the sun keeps rising, and his two little girls keep changing shoe sizes each year, I still remember how vital he was to my life. How much I miss his hugs--of seeing the joy he grabbed from every moment of life.
I long to be with him in glory. I long to see his face once more. Occasionally, the Lord gives me dreams of him--such sweet moments in the stillness of my nights. Sometimes I recall a particular phrase he eternalized in my mind. And I smile. I remember one in particular that he coined from some movie, I've been told. But when I felt defeated and thought I just couldn't go on anymore with a situation, challenge or task, he would change his voice and say, "You can dooooo it, Momma." And it gave me the energy to tackle life with his spiritual wind at my back.
That tad of encouragement has often come to me in moments when grief seems too much to bear. When seeing his girls grow up without him. When I need to be a part of something that he should have been in attendance for--my heart wants to run. But I hear his voice--"You can doooo it, Momma." And by the grace of God, and through Christ who strengthens me, he is right.
"Happy Birthday, my son. Tell Jesus thank you for making it possible for us to see one another again when my days on earth have come to a close." Love ya, bunches and bunches, and until then I'll just keep on "remembering the good times". Momma
