It is true that time heals...somewhat. When I was recounting that morning again on this morning to dh, I did cry. I didn't have the raw, seething pain that I did then. Still, I felt it. I felt the distress, the out-of-control sorrow that comes when you realize you won't again see someone on this side of heaven. The difference, I suppose, is that now I can come out of that feeling. I can move beyond that raw emotion and move back into my life routine.
How amazing that is to me. God's plan for my life is always a bright surprise. The puzzle that, in retrospect, makes perfect sense.
If I had been given these little ones 20 years ago instead of now, I would have had to come out of that place immediately and I would have done a lousy job. I would have caused them to suffer while watching their mother deal badly with the loss of someone dear. I probably would have made them wonder what would happen if the same fate befell them one day.
So, here we are, 15 years later. Instead of burdening them with my sorrow, my babies are a balm to me. This year was especially meaningful because I could look at my five children like my father probably looked at us...with some annoyance, much gratitude, and an infinite awe in God's power to work miracle after miracle.
I took #s 1, 2 & 5 to Mass this morning and we prayed for my dad. I have no idea what the two oldest pray when he is their intention. Still, I know that it would please him that we are here thinking of him. That, even 15 years later, his memory lives on.
I miss you dad. Thank you for everything.
And for all time their progeny will endure, their glory will never be blotted out;
At gatherings their wisdom is retold, and the assembly proclaims their praise.