I checked Facebook to see how everyone is doing and say thank you for the birthday messages to my son...to just mellow out before I wrote my boy his "scrapblog" note.
To my absolute heartache, I saw the gut-wrenching news that my husband's cousin and his family are experiencing the loss of their little girl who was kicked by a horse Tuesday.
Stunned. Dumbfounded. Utter disbelief.
I am celebrating the life of my son, while they all must face the death of their precious daughter/granddaughter/niece???
Sometimes I HATE living in this fallen world!
Sometimes I long for Heaven's joy so badly I cannot stand it.
Alex, this message is turning out much differently than I had originally planned, but nonetheless, very important for the story of your life.
This is your Daddy's cousin, Patrick's sweet little girl. You met Patrick only once at Grandpa McCracken's funeral. There were so many people you were meeting for the first time, that you may not even remember him.
You may remember Uncle Paul, your Nanny's brother. You may remember Uncle Paul and Patrick embracing and crying very hard at the end of the funeral service in the church, as they were standing in front of us.
We did not have the pleasure of knowing Cadence, as we live in different states, but we know pain, grief, and fear don't we?
We have seen other parent's try to move on without their children. We know part of our family has a long road ahead and so we do what the Word of God says: mourn with those who are mourning.
I don't really know what to say in this letter to you now. All that is coming to my mind is to tell you how much I love you with all my might and being...how proud I am of you for who you choose to be...how blessed I feel to have been entrusted with you as an inheritance from the Lord...all the things most parents would want to make sure their child knows, beyond doubt, in case the worst happens to either of them.
There has never, ever, EVER, been a second that I have had the thought that my life would be better without you. I treasure you my sweet, sweet son. All I can think to do is make sure I say that enough and show it enough.