Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for them that love him.

Monday, March 11, 2013

My Sweet Boy

For my soul has been freed from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling. Ps 116:8

Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these. Mt 19:14

Our lives are but a single breath,
we flower and we fade,
yet all our days are in your hands,
so we return in love what love has made. 
---"Eye has not seen"

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Seven years

Tomorrow is March seventh.  Seven years ago my precious gift went home to his Father.

I'm not sure time heals all wounds.  Sure, time allows for the erecting of a wall to cushion the pain.  What was, at first, agonizing and gut-wrenching turns into chronic burning with occasional stinging before becoming the ever-present dull ache.

One can certainly go about every day life with the dull ache, and we have.  Since Gabriel's death, much has happened.  His sister was born three months later.  Another sister was born almost three years later followed by a brother two years after that. 

We've had several losses as well.  Both of my grandmothers, an aunt, and both of my parents died during those seven years. 

Parenting and teaching the children is a full-time blessing.  Still, from time to time I allow myself to revisit the other side of the wall.  I struggle to picture Gabriel with us at the park, playing and wrestling with his brothers and sisters.  I feel the sting of his absence during the holidays.  At the beginning of Lent, I can picture clearly his last Ash Wednesday Mass during which he played a tiny six inch guitar during all the songs.

I remember. 


He felt so perfect in my arms.  With his head resting on my left shoulder, I'd kiss his soft neck and hold him close.

I don't know when, but I'll hold him again.  Happy re-birth day, sweet son.