I miss you today. I’m sorry that I don’t miss you everyday. I should. I busy myself with work and nonstop activities where my thoughts don’t have time to slow down and process my hearts pangs. I feel that I do you an injustice because there are days that go by and I don’t think about you. It’s days like that that I wonder if I am a good father at all. Maybe that is just guilt for not grieving like I know I should. It is just too damn painful. I’m glad that you will never know pain like this.
Life is catching up with me though. So is my grief. There was a guy last night at a revival that I played. You don’t know him, but he sang this really good song. Now, I don’t really like the kind of music he plays, but this song superseded my petty musical taste. I fought the tears. The song spoke first of a dad looking into a nursery through the glass at his son. The baby looked at him as if to say “Who are you? I don’t believe I’ve ever met you. But I’m glad you’re here, you know heaven must have sent you. Now won’t you stay with me a while, I’ve never needed someone so. Who are you? I’d really like to know.” By the end of the song, it speaks of the son going to see his dad who has Alzheimer’s and doesn’t know his own son. His dad says to his now grown son the same thing that he imagined his son as a baby would have said. “Who are you? I don’t believe I’ve ever met you. But I’m glad you’re here, you know heaven must have sent you. Now won’t you stay with me a while, I’ve never needed someone so. Who are you? I’d really like to know.”
So why did this song rip me to shreds? Well, I don’t know what you will look like in heaven. I know that we will be too busy worshipping God and giving honor and glory and we won’t be looking for each other. At the same time, it helps me to deal with your death. I’ve never met you and I know that I never will. I will never sit and rock you and watch you sleep. I’ll never hold you. I’ll never hear you laugh or talk or sing. You’ll never call me “Pop-Pop” or touch my face. You’ll never stare deeply into my heart when you look in my eyes. I’ll never take you to the park or take pictures of you or anything. I won’t watch you grow up to be an adult and follow Christ. Was I robbed of you? No. Do I feel that it was unfair? Yes, sometimes. There are parents that mistreat their kids or act like children are a burden. They beat their little ones and abuse them or allow them to be abused. All I want to do is to hug you, look you square in your eyes and into your heart and tell you that I love you and that I am so proud of you like I tell your sister. When she does something simple but huge for her like picking up a Cheerio and feeds herself I praise her for growing and I tell her that I love her and that I am proud of her. I just want the same for you. I know that the words of God are so much more touching and comforting to you. I bet that He looks on you and you feel that He is proud…that you actually feel it on your person…not just in your heart.
Your sister is nine months old today. She is saying Pop-Pop and Mom-Mom. She also says “Bite, bye-bye (with a wave), Hi (again, with a wave).” She is pulling up on nearly everything and will stand up with one hand steadying her. On occasion she will unknowingly let go of her steadying hand. Well, until she realizes what she is doing…then she reaches out to hold on again. She is wonderful. You are just as wonderful and beautiful. Psalm 127 says that you are like an arrow in the hand of a warrior and blessed is the man who has a quiver full of them. You are not forgotten.
As of today, you would have been born in right around three months. You would be nearly 6 months growing. Just know that you were and are fearfully (reverently) and wonderfully made. God knew and still knows your form as He knit you in your mommy’s womb. Did God take you? Yes. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe it was because He wanted us to grow up more so we could help other couples in the same boat. (After your death, two more couples in our church lost their babies, within one month, the same way that we lost you.) Do I hate the fact that we are apart…absolutely. Today is one of the roughest days I’ve had in several months. The last time I had a couple of days like this was when I was making a present for you mom for her first Mother’s Day. Thank you for laying your life down for us. Your living for 13 weeks has forever changed my heart. In the way you lived and died has brought honor to me, a swelling in my heart, and tears to my eyes. I could never be more proud of you.
I love you, buddy.