Reaching deep into the back of a kitchen cabinet and feeling around for a notepad, I stumbled upon a treasure. Six o'clock, the dinner hour and my pantry was empty...obviously it was past time to prepare a grocery list. But I made a feeble attempt anyway.
As I brought the thin, small post-it notepad from the recesses of the dark cabinet, I noticed scribbles on the first page. But not just any scribbles...they were her scribbles! Page after page...a message written a couple of years ago from my angel. And today is the day her message found me
For a moment I unmistakably heard her delightful, teenage voice shouting to me from the scribbles..."Hi Mom!"
And then I wept...big heaping, body shaking sobs!
It's Spring and I ache for her...similar to the ache I feel in the Summer, and the Fall and the Winter. A giant hole torn in the fabric of my life, losing a child is the hardest thing I've ever done...and continue to do. Surrendering to grief's icy grip, I let go of my usual brave face for a while...because sometimes it's OK to let go!
Lisa, this is heartbreaking and sweet and dear. What a sweet treasure for you.
ReplyDeleteIt's always okay to let go and let it all out. What a special memento to find and hold on to.
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness. I don't know what to say. It is such a tender mercy in such a bittersweet kind of way.
ReplyDeleteI know she is watching over you...
ReplyDeleteGod bless and thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteMoms... Hug those babes a little tighter today and thank God for eternity.
My heart stopped for a moment...
ReplyDeleteWhat a tender visit from a "red headed angel". A good cry always heals the heart.
I think my heart just skipped a beat. What an amazing gift you received. Lisa you are a wonderful person. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI heart this. A lot. :)
ReplyDeletelisa this is so sweet.. thank you for your blogging it always makes me smile.
ReplyDeleteSuch sweetness. sigh
ReplyDeleteI'm reading this late at night when I should be sleeping.
ReplyDeleteAnd I keep typing and erasing my comment because what can I say? I can't. It's too delightful and horrible and profound.
And I'm so sorry for that great gaping hole.
Love you.