Don’t ever underestimate a visit.
He sat at my table.
We drank tea.
Conversation flowed easily.
He shared about the things he has been doing and where he is headed.
Hopes and Dreams.
All too soon it was time for him to go.
I don’t know when I’ll see him again.
You see, life has a way of taking our kids far from us.
This young man warmed my heart.
I’d been having a few down days.
The loss of a child is hard.
The holidays rear and the missing lurks in every aspect.
So, when this friend of our sons, texts to see if he can visit, I welcome the interruption.
This kind young man sits across from me and I welcome his tales of everyday life.
I laugh at his stories.
I wonder where God will lead his steps?
My heart is grateful.
He’s only home for a short time.
He has family and friends.
He sits at my farmhouse table and soothes my weary ache.
My son was here on this earth.
He had purpose and meaning while he was here.
And the reminders of seeing his friends is so wonderful.
I smile at the memories.
We don’t talk much about Elijah.
He sees the girls and how they have grown.
He knows, as I do, they do not remember much of their brother any more.
They were too little and the memory is growing thin.
I wonder, as time passes. . . How many will remember?
My heart aches today.
I can’t get much done.
Tears freely flow.
I listen to a song that reminds me of hope and grace when the ache is so strong.
I step into the gift of a visit.
I am awed by God’s timing, again and again.
I can’t control time or the way things happen.
I don’t want to spend my time railing against the, “What could have beens.”
I am grateful for a visit, just when I needed it most.
Martha Frost says
I remember Elijah. Though I did not know him well I could see his strong determination. He was sure of himself to be a Marine. I loved to hear him play the drums in church. It was always a pleasant sight to come back from Arizona and see how much he had changed and grown while we were away. He was a handsome young man. I do not forget your beloved son.
Thank you for that Martha. He was, indeed, all those things. Stretching his wings. Getting ready to fly. . . I just didn’t think that far….
Today I sat across the table from my granddaughter for lunch talking about memories of her mom. I said it’s so nice to have someone to Talk to about her that’s interested and she said I know exactly what you mean. So I got this. My grandauter was only 13 when her mom went home. I want her to know her mom more and help her remember without making her sad. HUGS
Gwen, that is a unique gift you can give her. Longing to meet you one day.