Sunday, July 17, 2011
Heaven Day on the Horizon
I'm alone right now. It's odd. I've not been alone--really and truly alone--for quite a while. Bob and Brien have the big girls at BG and Ellie is napping, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And, right now, my thoughts turn towards napping...
But, they also turn towards Tuesday. Heaven Day approaches. Four years. Wow. It was hot. It was muggy. She was looking forward to a day of fun in the sun. Then, it all went horribly, tragically wrong. So wrong I'll never in a million years be able to make it right.
Once more I want to tell someone, "Okay, I get it, send her back now. The joke's over." Only, it's not a joke. Not in any way, shape or form.
She's eternally five, and as I've often said, what a blessing. When you are five (almost six, you know, on Septembager 21st), you are the world's best dancer, tell the funniest jokes, and a world renowned artist. Everybody loves you. Everybody. Life it good and wonderful and amazing, and there are more things to discover and explore just around the bend.
At five, you can tie your shoes, whistle and ride a bike. You may long for a loose tooth, but that's okay, it'll happen, give it time. For, really, when you are five, there is always time. Always. In fact, the time between now and Christmas is an utter eternity, but boy, you'll be going back to school in the blink of an eye. How does time do that?
To be eternally five is perfect. No heartbreak, no mean girls, no teenage angst. There's no middle school girl drama, no stitches and broken bones and pain and blood. No one tells you you aren't good enough and you never will dance on stage in front of thousands. What a blessing.
She's with her Papa and myriad great grandparents. She's with family and friends (so many angel friends--I'm sure they must get into all sorts of mischief as they explore all heaven's hidey-holes) and in a place of pure, utter perfection. What could be any better?
We'll celebrate that come Tuesday. She's with Jesus. Amazing. Utterly amazing.
And yes, in spite of knowing that, it still hurts. I still miss her. But, for me, it's far easier to celebrate the happy than dwell on the sad. I know she's there waiting for us and goodness knows I can't wait to see her again.
She sends signs--if we're smart enough, we catch them--and we know she's here with us. But, boy, wouldn't one of those Pepe Le Pew kisses up the arm be welcome right about now? That's the part I can't experience. I miss the physical being of her. I wonder what her voice would sound like now. I wonder how tall she would be. I wonder about school and friends and yes, heartbreak and heartache. For one who loved as deeply as she would surely be hurt by this time.
Then, there's the teeth. When would they have finally fallen out? Would she have those great big teeth so out of proportion with the rest of her face? Would her body still be all coltish legs and gangliness? Would she still love to be cuddled and snuggled--even at the age of almost 10? Oh my. Double digits. I'd have a child in double digits.
Instead, she's forever five. And you know, I don't suppose that's such a bad thing some times.
1. Seeing the Sisters in church. We've been traveling so much and out and about so much I've not seen them and I've missed them.
2. Ellie "reading" to herself. I'll have to try to get a video. It's TOO funny!
3. My gallery wall above the mantle is almost together. Hooray for Brien!
4. Another lovely day. Tomorrow it will be icky once more. But today, today is beautiful. :o)