It's gloomy outside. Rain, clouds, cold. It's the first day of fall and the weather so closely resembles the emotions of this last month. It seems like it has been one of the most emotional, and particularly sad, couple of weeks since those early days after his death. We buried his ashes on September 2nd. We went on our first family vacation without him. We sold our house and are packing and purging. I dropped off the last of the baby things this morning at the local Pregnancy Center. It's weird. I'm not sure what I'm feeling actually. Whenever Adam and I talked about kids, we always assumed our kids would be close in age. We assumed that the things we purchased for our first child would be worn and tattered by the time they were unpacked for the last child. We assumed that for the first portion of our parenthood journey we would be deep in the throws of infants and diapers and potty training.
All of those things might have been a reality. All of those things were supposed to be a reality. From the very first glimpse at that positive pregnancy test, our plans became reality. We were on track to join the 2 under 2 club. We would have a house full of chaos. There would be laughter, tears, anxiety. There would be a big sister and her baby sibling. There would be jealousy. There would be learning to share and learning to be gentle. There would be so much love. I guess in a way those things are still true. We did have a baby. We did have 2 under 2. There are siblings. There has been laughter and tears. There is a big sister and there is so much love. The only thing is that those truths look so much different than I thought.
I know that 2 years from now if there's a new baby, I won't regret donating all of this baby stuff. I know that 2 months from now when I'm unpacking boxes in our new home, I'm not going to regret not finding baby stuff. I know that this weird week of purging is healthy and good. This has been a very weird week and a very hard 7 months but God has been with me every step of the way. We, adam and I, are in the very best possible hands of the God who loves us so deeply he was willing to watch his own son die on a cross so that we could be set free. Set free from death. Set free from the pain of this broken world. Set free from worrying about our son. Yes, I miss George Mason so incredibly much. But I also know that heaven is a pretty dang awesome place, and so, in the absence of physically caring for my sweet son, I can rejoice that he has a place in the most glorious place ever imagined. A seat with his Heavenly Father.
This is a gloomy day and an emotional week/month but we are so loved. We are continually upheld by the strength of the Father who promises nothing less. Praise hands for days for that one.
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. - Revelation 22:1-5