It's A Daily Thing

It has been said that "A funeral is not a day in a lifetime, but a lifetime in a day."

Some of you may know, that when everyone else is quick to put away the black suit, and brush the dried flower petals off their shoes, to go on about their daily lives - how quickly they forget that tomorrow and tomorrow, I will still be lovingly caressing the wrinkly t-shirt, and pressing the white rose in the scrapbook, opening the pages day after day, hoping against all reason to find another memory of my son that wasn't there before.

By the time the rest of the world has all but forgotten the sorrowful day when I laid my son to rest, I must daily remember to preserve the very tiniest details that make up the whole of Nathanael. Time moves on, and leaves those memories further and further behind. There will be no more memories of our son.

It's a daily custom, the first thing I put on my neck is the locket holding a photo of my son. The locket is tarnished, the photo fading, but it's the 3 year old version of my son, I received for Mother's Day that year.

It's a daily habit now, I smooth the sleeves of his favorite shirt on his chair, straightening the sides and sometimes holding it in my arms.

It's a daily thing, I am constantly aware of his absence. Even if by now he would have had his own family to come home to.

It's a daily thought, Oh, how I miss you, my son.

Daily, I am aware of the weather, will the storm be too much for the flowers on his memorial?
Weekly, we take turns washing the stones of our son and my mother-in-law. Making sure the whirly-gig has done it's job by keeping most of the birds away.

Every holiday, the top priority is finding new flowers to decorate his memorial. Then, it is time to schedule any other events that may or may not occur.

It's also a daily thing to decide if I have enough energy to plaster on a smile and celebrate with someone else in their good fortune. Everything from shopping to choosing an outfit, to arriving and carrying on a conversation has to be weighed by how empty the giving gauge is today. Some days, even with good intentions, it may be too much, and all bets are off.

Also daily, I must remind myself to give thanks to the Father, for every single memory I do have, praying that I will recall more. That I will remember every moment, every smile, every joke, every hope and dream, keeping close to my heart the precious years we spent which I would never choose to spend otherwise.

Daily, I search for promises from God's word, praying that He will show me just what I need for the day. Even when I renege on my side of the deal, foolishly putting off reading first thing in the morning, even then, He will find ways to speak to my soul and sweep away the dust that gathers in the corners of my mind.

You will find me daily looking for echoes of Nathanael's fingerprints on our lives. To my last breath I will live carrying the torch because he no longer can. I will daily bring the light to a darkened world, even if it may only be a tiny spark at times.

The Sonshine of my soul was the Light that let Nathanael brighten every place he traveled. His smile lit up the room, his laughter was contagious, his love lavish, and his heart was huge.

The sunshine of my life is a different color now, but I can still feel the warmth penetrating through the darkness, when I daily recall the love we share as family.