Today is Halloween and its hard not to miss our sweet George. It feels weird to say that… but sometimes, I almost have to remind myself that those 9 months and 16 hours weren’t just a bad dream. Because as we get further from his day, those memories fade. But on days like today, his absence in our family is obvious. It makes me wonder what kind of crazy costume his big sister would have dreamed up for him. At 2.5, would he like the experience of trick or treating? Would he be ok going along with whatever his sister said? Or would he break the mold and be his own man?! Audrey has chosen to be Ariel this year. She’s even (still, day of) trying to convince me to dress our dogs up as Sebastian and Prince Eric. I’m pretty sure she would have jumped at the opportunity to make her little brother the perfectly striped flounder to accompany her frigid candy walk this evening. And wouldn’t he have been the cutest little fish you ever did see?!
I think that’s where days like today are so hard. When George died, we lost his entire lifetime of experiences. Mostly, just our dreams for his life - at least in those first days and weeks - because he was too little to have his own plans. But now, now that we are living forward without him, each new experience gets imagined and mourned because he is not here. This year, we mourn our little flounder (or spiderman, or paw patrol, or dinosaur… or whatever a 2.5 year old McGough boy would be interested in). When Audrey gets her costume on she will be missing the sweetest side kick. Those are the moments that this pain of his loss hurts the most.
To add to the complicated emotions of today, we are leaving tomorrow morning for a family trip to Disneyland. Something that I have dreamed of sharing with my kids since before I even had children. I’m a Disney kid through and through. Growing up only an hour away from Disney World in Orlando, we went ALL THE TIME. It really is the most magical place on the planet. And so, as I imagined my life as mama, it most certainly included some wonderfully magical experiences with Mickey Mouse and all his sidekicks. Well, Audrey is finally big enough that I think her experience is going to be perfect. So we are going. And yet, I can’t help but feel the sadness of only bringing one child with us. I know George would probably be a little too young to really appreciate all that Disney has to offer, but man, kids love Disney, and I think George Mason would have found his own little niche of Disneyland magic.
We have a lifetime of vacations and experiences without our George. Thats a reality that will never get easier to face. From first trips to Disney to college graduations to weddings and grand babies - George Mason will forever be missed. Its hard to think about this new baby joining our family and never having met it’s big brother. So many people in our lives only know George through our stories; stories that are few and not very full of detail to begin with; our third child is going to be one of those people. I’m sure they will know their brother, because Audrey will make sure of it (not to mention Adam and I’s stories and sharing of love), but it won’t be the same. Especially 20 years from now. See, I told you today was a hard day. A day full of all the what could have beens and what will bes. I’m sure Disney will be a wonderful distraction, while being equally triggering, of our reality. This family of ours is made up of 4 people and a little one on the way. But the pictures only show 3. And outsiders wouldn’t know the difference.
George Mason, sweet boy, we miss you. That’s all there is to say. And all that we can do is rest in the peace of God, as we move forward without that precious little life. Knowing and trusting in God’s goodness as we finish out our earth-side work until we meet again at the gates of heaven.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. - Revelation 21:4
