yesterday was hard. I have so much to do and can feel the anniversary of D-day creeping up on me.
What was I thinking scheduling the race on the actual anniversary??
In the middle of running as many errands as I could fit in while the 3 oldest were at VBS, I headed over to visit Rachel and water her flowers. I saw that huge banner again and thought that I wanted to tell her about it - obviously immediately remembering I can't and then going into deep thought about the big question: "Does she know about me?"
As I was driving up the road towards the cemetery, the song I posted recently about forgiveness was on..."Father, give me grace to forgive them, cause I feel like the one losing" was on and as I drove towards my baby's grave, headstones filling my peripheral vision, I had this mixture between anger and sadness set in...
"I've got such bigger things to worry about then what a few people think of me or expect from me" I thought.
I pulled in and no sooner than I saw my last name blazoned across the back of that beautiful stone, I fell apart. I don't cry there often, minus a few tears shed here or there... I usually just go and care for her spot and then leave, but I think since the kids weren't with me, I was able to let myself feel it. And I did.
I don't usually talk to her there either cause it feels weird. But yesterday, I decided that I would take a chance just in case she COULD hear me - just like I did when I was pregnant with her... and I let her know....
"There's a huge banner in town for you pretty girl...your cute hands are on it.... so many people are donating money and we're going to give it to Family Builders in your memory.... I've been working hard to make sure nobody forgets you.... your flowers look pretty.... this is a nice grave.... someday we'll be together again....
I miss you so much...."
And I sobbed and sobbed until all of a sudden I became aware that someone might hear me and looked around. There are often people walking there and they seem to sneak up without me noticing.... nobody was around, but I became just self-conscious enough that I couldn't stay in that moment. I wiped my face, signed her "I love you" like I do every time I leave, and drove away.
There is a piece of my heart in that grave. And so I cry.
But there is also a piece of my heart in heaven. And so I rejoice.
Unfortunately the tears will most likely accompany the joy for the rest of my life. But that is why this is called earth, not heaven. And I'm okay with that. One day I will be where it's called heaven, not earth.
Dear Stacy, I'm writing this comment to inform you that
ReplyDeleteour princess Vitoria de Cristo has left us. The Lord gave us, and the Lord has taken her away. My sister and her husband are in peace. Please remembers in your prayers, as we have remembered you. Thank you!