Untitled

Yesterday was a heavy. I felt out of synch. I felt out of touch. I wanted to accomplish something but I honestly don't think I did... except maybe for getting thru the day. I got up early and read and had a good time with God. I had a brief conversation with my mentor. I went to lunch with Nicol and Summer and Tyson. I came to the house, thinking I would do some packing, but that didn't happen. I tried to write, but nothing made sense... even though I knew what I wanted to say. We had dinner with Tyson and Renee and Ty and Jim and June and Griffin and Lawson and it was great to be with all of them. We stopped at Tyson and Renee's and had coffee and talked and watched Larry King interview Ahma-whatever his name is from Iran. We left their place and settled in for the night. I listened to a very encouraging sermon by one of my favorite preachers. The events of the day really were good. Still though, my heart was heavy. I laid my head on the pillow and my tears flowed like they hadn't in a while. Those tears were good. They were cleansing. They seemed to carry away some of the heaviness even as they streamed down my face. But I fell asleep with a heavy heart.

I miss my Luke. I cannot believe he is no longer with us and I don't want to think about a future that does not include him.

I see him every day. He is everywhere we go.

I see him in Summer's delightful smile and I remember his. I hear him in her innocent, pure, silly, joyful laughter and I want to hear his. I marvel at her remarkable ability to communicate and wonder about the things he would say. I see him in her precious blue eyes and long to see his. I see him in her development... her expanding vocabulary, her physical growth, her understanding of things, her care and concern when our pain is obvious, her interaction with others... and I'm reminded of all we are missing out on. I see him in her sweet personality and I wonder how he would be similar and how he would be different.

I see him at Walmart and the Chop House and Chick-fil-a, in the Odyssey that passes by and in the church nursery and in the mall's play area, on television and on my desktop's monitor and on the ball field.

I see him every day. He is everywhere we go.

I miss him so much.

And sometimes I feel guilty... that I don't miss him enough, or that I don't think of him every single minute, or that I can and do laugh and have good days, or that I don't cry every day. Maybe that's all silly and unnecessary. But it's real.

I miss him so much.

Every morning I place two things in my pocket that remind me of Luke. Every night I remove them from my pocket and place them on the counter. One is his ID bracelet from the emergency room from the night he died. The other is a piece of white linen with a scarlet ribbon tied around it. One reminds me of his heaven date. The other reminds me of the day we will see him again. One reminds me of the saints who rushed to the hospital that night. The other reminds of the saints who will return with him and Jesus in the clouds. One reminds me of the brevity of life. The other reminds me of Jesus and his sacrifice. One reminds me of his way-too-short 10 weeks with us. The other reminds me of eternity together. One reminds me of the mortality of his body. The other reminds me of the garments he will wear when he rides as a warrior in heaven's army. Both are becoming tattered and show the signs of wear and tear from being in my pocket. Both are precious to me. Neither should not be part of my daily routine.

These two things are in my pocket every day. They are not enough. My heart and mind are filled with the joy and memories of our 10 short weeks together as a family. Those 10 weeks were not enough. We have pictures that we look at every day. They are not enough. But these things are all we have... except of course for the expectation and hope that we will one day see him again. And, though it's not my plan, it is enough.