I woke up a week ago around 3am and couldn't go back to sleep until I wrote my thoughts down. My first thoughts were that this has been a very stupid year, but of course 2020 would still have July 19. I can't escape this date as much as I would like to. The Earth just continues to rotate bringing me back year after year. 9 years to be exact. I really did try to close my eyes after that and get some sleep, but the words kept forming in my head. I had previously thought to myself if this would be the year I stop writing (not that I have done a lot of this type of writing recently), but a verse I had recently read came to mind and I realized that writing about this allows the thoughts in my head to flow out and allow space for moving forward. In Mark 1:35 Jesus goes to a quiet place and prays. In the middle of the night last week that was my time God was letting in. While all of those I love were sleeping soundly I had a quiet moment to sit with my thoughts, ruminate on feelings I don't let come to the surface on a daily basis for fear they would take me under, and just be.
I realized every year I subconsciously make the same cake that was sitting on the counter going stale while I made plans to say good-bye to my son; yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
I thought about Jacob and remembered I had pictured how he and Daniel would have been playing during our Stockton trip; how each kid could have been partnered up with someone of the same age.
I thought how just that night Andrew said and looked a certain way and I could have sworn that Daniel would have said that exact same thing, sounded, and looked the same way.
I thought about Emma's hair and how I lay and run my fingers through it and I think about Daniel's hair sometimes, his floppy mop of blonde, and I thought about her facial expressions and her eyes always reminding my of that boy.
I thought of my poor little toddler-sized memory and how if he were here he would most definitely be taller than me.
I thought about how each year there is someone new in my life that this story affects and I watch how the gravity of what happens hits them. This year, it hit me again, too. I have lived with this event for 9 years and it's become a part of me, but I also forget just how tragic it really is.
I thought about Jacob and remembered I had pictured how he and Daniel would have been playing during our Stockton trip; how each kid could have been partnered up with someone of the same age.
I thought how just that night Andrew said and looked a certain way and I could have sworn that Daniel would have said that exact same thing, sounded, and looked the same way.
I thought about Emma's hair and how I lay and run my fingers through it and I think about Daniel's hair sometimes, his floppy mop of blonde, and I thought about her facial expressions and her eyes always reminding my of that boy.
I thought of my poor little toddler-sized memory and how if he were here he would most definitely be taller than me.
I thought about how each year there is someone new in my life that this story affects and I watch how the gravity of what happens hits them. This year, it hit me again, too. I have lived with this event for 9 years and it's become a part of me, but I also forget just how tragic it really is.
I could always think of the devastatingly awful event-and yes, some days I do go back and it cuts deep, but then I remind myself of who he is with and and how Daniel's life and death changed those around me, and I continue to push forward with the long ago promise to never let his life become less than what God intended it to be.
This year, a very special person got his Daniel visit and comfort. Andrew decided he would pick out the flowers for Daniel's spot and had exactly what he wanted in his mind. I came across a video of the sweetest girl singing her song. I watched a show last night and one of the main characters called his son monkey man. All of these, and so many more winks throughout the year, are what help me know Daniel is close and God hears and loves.
