I will not succeed.
Tomorrow it will have been 22 months since Amy was in my arms, since I held her sweet hand in mine, since I sang to her one last time, since I kissed her face and gave her to the Lord Jesus Christ to be His forever.
Why is missing her still so hard? Did I love her too much?
I have been thinking a lot about children and about death this last month. For two weeks we had six extra people in our house, four of them age 9 and under. I forgot about the noise and the turmoil that having four children can bring! It has been quite a few years since I had my 4 children in the home. The youngest, James, came along when Tess was 9 and so for only nine years (until she left for college) did I have four children in the house. Only nine years? Why did it seem so much longer? Tess was a quiet girl, Amy couldn't speak, then I had two very vocal kids, Emily and James! So I never really experienced life with four exuberant children, only two.
We had a lot of fun times together. One of the special things we did was to take a walk to the cemetery. On another day, their oldest wanted to put some flowers on Amy's grave and I remembered to take my camera. Their oldest daughter is the only one who can remember Amy since it has been four years since they were here last.
Amy loved her cousin, Carrie. She was the only cousin
she had that was her age. Amy was able to see her almost every Christmas
and then about every four years once Carrie married. Carrie was able to
come back to Pennsylvania for Grandpa's funeral in January of 2013. So Carrie and Amy were able to visit with each other for the last time just a few months before she died. Her precious family will always be special to me.
A few weeks ago the ladies in our Sunday School class decided to do "Secret Sisters." We were each given a form to fill out. The form wanted us to list our children's names and ages. I was glancing over this and instantly tears sprang to my eyes and pain clutched at my heart. I haven't had to fill out a form asking that since Amy has been gone. I finally filled it out last week and I listed Amy and put "with Jesus" after her name. I couldn't just leave her off and make no mention of her at all as if she didn't ever exist.
I'm sure the widows in our class felt the same way when it asked for their husband's name and anniversary date.
That same Sunday we were to attend the afternoon funeral of the dear lady that Emily has been helping take care of for the last few years. While still in church, Emily got the call that the husband had also passed away. This dear couple were in their 90's and I had know them for the last 37 years, since we were married and moved here. Emily writes about her experiences here:
A week later, the father of the lady who cared for Amy at her school also passed away. We attended yet another viewing. The first for me at the funeral home where Amy had been.
I knew what was behind the closed doors; the room where the caskets are chosen, the room where the family sits for the consultation with the funeral director, even the room where you go to pay your bill.
On the way home I was thinking how hard it was for Emily, for the families of those who had died. I was thinking that there was some consolation in the fact that they had lived a good long life and had family that loved them. But I started feeling sorry for myself again, by thinking that Amy only lived for 31 years. Do I dare say that God "spoke" to me then? He told me that Amy did have a good long life for her tiny body. He appointed the day of her death and her life was as long as He allowed. And she also had family and many friends that loved her.
The following morning I woke up thinking of my children when they were Carrie's childrens ages. How they acted and what all we did. The scene came to my mind that was put on the end of Amy's memorial video; she had just gotten her back brace and she could walk upright again. I called to her, "Come to Mommy. Amy. Come to Mommy." She came to me and gave me her beautiful smile.
Two other things stick out in my mind from the last two weeks.
I was able to see an ultrasound for the very first time. Tess allowed me to be with her and I was able to see my granddaughter's face and hands and tiny little fingers. It brought tears to my eyes. In just a few months I will be able to hold that little girl in my arms.
I also babysat Will for a couple of hours and he is growing so fast! He is now 4 1/2 months old. He talks to me with cooing and smiles. He got fussy so I rocked him to sleep and I just held him in my arms the whole time he slept. I dozed on and off myself, but was so thankful that I had time, with no responsibilities and that I was able to just hold him while he slept, to glory in his little nose and eyes and lips. Was it really 25 years ago I held his Daddy like this? But then I don't remember taking the time to just "be." I was always in a hurry. I was always looking to the next stage... until they were grown and gone.
God has given me the gift of time right now. He has given me a gift of not having the responsibility of caring for Amy. I have time to enjoy my children and grandchildren. Would I want Amy back? Yes. But I can't have her back. Nor would she want to be back in this life, now that she knows what true freedom from her physical body is like in heaven with Jesus. I'm trying to be thankful for what God has given me each day.
Children and even death. It is all in God's plan.
So tomorrow I will try to smile and when the tears come, I will let them, but I will continue to try to smile. God has given me a gift. I will treasure my memories and look forward to the future and enjoy the time of right now.
