Skip to main content

Missing you...

I miss watching you play, so I looked at a picture of you playing. 

 I miss hearing the sound of your toys, so I went to your room and turned on your light sabre. 

 I miss hearing your sweet voice and contagious laugh, so I watched a video of you. 

 I miss your goodnight kisses and holding you in my arms, so I cried. 

 Your touch can never be replaced. A picture, a video, a memory will never suffice. Nothing compares to the physicality of running my fingers through your soft, thick hair or kissing your warm, sweet cheeks or holding your sweaty little hand. I am learning to cope without you, moment by moment, day by day, but I still can't get past not having you here to touch. To feel your warmth radiate through me as we slept side by side as you neared the end. To rub your aching back or tickle your feet to see that amazingly beautiful smile of yours.

I am trying to learn how to feel you in my heart, but just as grief is a process so too is learning to live with you in my heart instead of my arms. I long for the day we are together again. And as I wait, I take comfort knowing you are happy. As much pain as I am in now missing your touch, I can feel it deep inside that you are well. I cry happy tears knowing you are in the arms of Jesus now.

I pray every night that He hug you once for me (a song by Erica McClure)





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Kids need to be kids - even with cancer

No one wants to see their child hurt. But when you have a child with a serious medical condition, seeing your child in pain can often be a frequent occurrence. Physical pain is one thing - emotional suffering is another- one I had little experience with until recently. (Yes, I am struggling, so that's why I am writing!) When Xavier was initially diagnosed and treated for brain cancer, he was a baby. He couldn't talk, express his feelings or even remember the trauma he suffered. Now, he is older, smarter and more thoughtful - yet too young to understand. About a month ago we started to see a change in Xavier. He was different. His sleep patterns changed, he was lethargic and other symptoms arose that concerned us. An MRI was immediately scheduled, followed by appointments with multiple doctors. A lumbar puncture has now been scheduled. I am not concerned they will find more cancer. I am not worried there is anything physically wrong. What has me scared and heart broken i...
Post a Comment
Read more

The dragon in his head

As far as my son knows, there was a dragon in his head. This dragon was big and scary and made him feel sick. But as far as my son knows, we stomped that dragon out. The idea of Xavier's cancerous tumour being a dragon in his head came from a movie that had been given to me by another mom of childhood cancer. Paul and The Dragon is a powerful 20-minute video of a young boy with cancer. Although it is generic (not about brain tumours), and there are no words, it is incredibly telling. For any family who has been through a similar experience, you will instantly connect with this boy and his family. And for my kids, who are very young and don't exactly understand medical terminology, the story is easy to understand and has provided a great foundation for how to talk to them about Xavier's journey with cancer. The movie was so popular among my kids that it became part of our regular Friday night movie rotation. My son even requested it while he was in the hos...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Deep Breath

The worst is over. Those words are like the soothing sound of a steady rainfall on a warm summers eve. After almost two weeks of anxiety and fear of Xavier's brain surgery, I can finally relax. It is over and he is doing amazing. This almost 5 year old kid has been through more than I have with 26 years on him. And still, he smiles, laughs and plays his little heart out. Not even a week after surgeons opened him up again, removed scar tissue in the 4th ventricle of his brain and took out a vertebrae in his spine, Xavier is walking, talking and just being a kid again. This past week has been a roller coaster of emotions, but above all has once again shown me how strong my little boy is ... and how strong I can be when I have to. There were moments when I thought I couldn't do this again - spend nights at his bedside in hospital, watch him suffer and see his painful scars. But with so many amazing people around me, and the extraordinary care by doctors and nurses at McMast...
Post a Comment
Read more