I won't put a happy face on the last few days. Colorado was hard and I thought perhaps coming home would bring some comfort. It hasn't. Wyatt isn't here. Three months have passed without him coming into my room in the morning, or riding his bike on the driveway, or jumping on the bed, or playing in the bathtub, or listening to story after story before bedtime. Life is still vastly empty and sad. He didn't go fishing with Rachel and E.J. He didn't pick wildflowers with Mima and Pop. He didn't listen to Big Cassie's stories in the van. He didn't squeal with joy when he saw Maasen after being gone for two weeks.
It seems the only thing I can do to stop the pain is read. Sometimes it's too hard to focus enough, though, and I start thinking: Wyatt. He's gone. That voice gets louder and louder until I can't take it anymore and I try to read again. Or do the dishes. Or... there's nothing I can do to get rest it seems.
And somehow we're supposed to face tomorrow morning and remember the last time we held Zeke. Precious and horrible, all in the same breath.
when you guys were gone it was hard, because it was so quiet here and boring. however i will say that for one split second when i got home from work i thought i cannot wait to hear Wyatt scream my name when i walked in the door. Then right as I opened the screen door - i remember that wouldn't happen because he is in heaven now.
ReplyDeletewalking beside you in prayer. you are dearly loved. i wish that i could take some of the pain for you and carry it for you - kind of divide it out - so we could all just shoulder some of this for you and you could get some rest.
ReplyDeletetrusting that He will carry you through tomorrow...and the next day...and the next...
you're in my thoughts today and every day.
ReplyDeleteno words just tears... and prayers
ReplyDeletei pray for you all the time.
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