Happy Memorial Day, My Love!
Well, My Love!
It sure has been a while since I wrote you.
Today was Memorial Day. It is the day we honor those who died while serving. It also seems that it is the day we all go to the cemetery and fix up the graves and ‘remember.’
You did not die serving, my love. But you served, and, you died.
Noah had to march in the parade this morning. It occurs to me that each time a parade rolls around I have the best intentions of going but never do. The kids don’t want to go either. Parades were always intimately woven with you . . . because you were always somewhere guarding an intersection or sitting in a car or even driving the patrol car in the parade. We went to the parades to be with you.
Now I figure why put ourselves through something that just points out your absence?
Then we spent the day at a party. You knew most of the people there, my love. They were our friends. It was so much fun, Chad Michael. We ate great food and played whiffle ball and sat for hours and chatted. You would have loved it.
Sara Damude cried during the prayer. She misses you so much . . . still. She wonders if she will ever stop missing you and I told her I don’t think so.
I found myself, at one point, just sitting in the large circle listening . . . and watching . . . and missing. There they all were . . . couple after couple . . . laughing and smiling and chatting.
And there I sit . . . alone.
It’s funny . . . the ‘alone’ part doesn’t bother me anymore. It used to.
Today what bothers me is that we don’t get to share any of this with you. I wish I could shake the people who dread the sharing . . . because they just don’t get how precious it is. They have gotten lost in pain, unforgiveness, and bitterness and have forgotten how beautiful it is to share.
I will never take for granted the sharing!
I wish you could watch Abbi sit and chat with her boyfriend. I wish you could see the excitement in her eyes as she talks about swimming. I wish you could watch Noah ‘chat’ his way through the crowd I wish YOU could play games with him not all these other dads who, bless their hearts, step in to fill your enormous gap. I wish you could play ladder ball with Micah and that he could watch YOU to know how to stand tall and look a man in the eyes and shake his hand firmly . . . NOT learn it from his mama.
I know, I know . . . I can hear the world hollering at me that you DO see all that. Well, it sure isn’t the same!
There is just such an enormous hole. It has been five and a half years and I guess what I am figuring out is that the hole will always be there. Oh! It doesn’t cause the hopelessness or the instant eruption of tears that it did five years ago. But, babe? As I sat there today I just couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that you are gone.
And at how much I miss you.
I miss sharing . . . with you!
So, in the words of my beloved ~
Now, always, and forever . . .
I love you