Wednesday, May 18, 2016


I walk around our home, trying to pretend everything is normal.

Ryan goes off to work.

The baby wakes and I breastfeed her.

I put her back to bed, then crawl back into bed myself for a few hours of sleep before both kids wake up again.

I make breakfast. I do the dishes and clean the house, bit by bit. Do some laundry. Read to our girls.

But my thoughts are peppered with death.

Ryan's are too.

Then I feed the baby again - down for the afternoon nap. Feed the girl. Have quiet time.

Time to myself means I'm alone with my thoughts and feelings.

I have been reflecting on life without my mother lately.

She knew me from the beginning. And now she's gone.

Ryan's known me since the beginning of my walk with Christ.

And when my best friend in the whole world is gone...

I sleep. Text some friends. Talk on the phone to Ryan.

Then everyone's up from quiet time. I feed the baby. Make dinner. Ryan comes home.

We eat together. Talk together. Pray together. Love each other.

So much.

Bedtime routine happens.

I feed the baby the last time for the night. Put her to bed. Snuggle that baby tight.

I am grateful she's alive and mine. Not all mine. But still...

Then I crawl into bed with my other favorite people. We finish the night with songs of praise and thanksgiving.

The girl goes off to bed with her furry sleeping buddy.

At last it's us two... We made it through another day!

How was work, Dear?

Tell me your heart, Dear...

We talk until the wee hours of the night. The conversation is captivating because it's him.

My heart is so grateful for his every word of love.

We laugh and joke. It's so fun going to bed with your best friend! We hold hands.

He falls asleep. His breathing changes.

I am listening. I keep listening.

I don't want it to end. But I know it will.


Until then, I hold on tight to each day and soak it in for all it's worth.

God's given us another day. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
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