when i stand on a floor not my own and my eyes fill as i look into the ones of my husband,
your son,
and watch him step up
and in
to the shoes that your feet should be here to fill.
it's on days like today when we need you
and you are no longer at the other end of that phone.
days like today when more than anything,
i wish i could say the words to you that i miss saying so desperately ~
i love you, dad.
and so i whisper them out loud,
to the air that is empty around me and trust that Jesus will let you know.
it's on days like today when grief blindsides
and i feel like i can't breathe
because i want to scream at something,
someone,
and beg you to come back.
because we weren't done needing you.
we weren't.
you would have been so proud today,
so proud of that son of yours.
proud of his mind,
his desire to make the right decision,
proud of who he is becoming.
i think you would have smiled at the way he wondered at what you would have done,
and i think you would have nodded when his decisions mirrored your own.
i think you would have laughed
at the three who bear your name.
the way they tumbled and yelled and drove their mama crazy.
you would have told me stories of the loudness of your own six,
you would have put your arms around him and i,
and you would have told us you were praying for us.
and maybe,
maybe we weren't done needing you.
and we will never be done missing you,
but He is near in these moments that are blinded with tears,
He is so very close when we feel lost in the vastness of decisions and choices.
and as i breathe out in the quiet of this evening that feels so heavy,
breathe out air laced with tears and grief and pain...
i breathe in the promise of His Presence ~
because when we are broken,
