Cherish

David is on my mind this week. He is never very far away. My precious sweet granddaughter Brooklyn is seven months old today, and she is trying to crawl and rolling around on the floor. I look into her happy sweet face and miss the little boy who never got the chance to crawl or roll around on the floor. Sometimes Brooklyn has this serious look on her face, a wrinkle in her brow and I wonder if she can see the sadness on our faces, covered up with the smiles and joy that she brings to us. When she was smaller she would smile constantly in her sleep and I would imagine that she was talking to her brother in heaven and he was telling her how much she was going to be loved because he knew, he knew how much he was loved. In the few short days we had him. Still I feel the incredible wash of love I felt for him then, even now. our first grandchild. It is amazing really how you think there is no possible way to love a child more than you love your  own, but David was my most loved. I am a champion of children, they are so helpless, so innocent, my protective heart wants to wrap them all up and protect them from any harm. It could be because I was rescued from a different life, a life where I might not have been as cherished as I was, I may not have had the benefits that my parents made sure I had growing up. And I am aware of it. My children never had any doubt at all that they were cherished, loved, respected, and cared for. My husband and I had done our duty, raised them right, and when David came along I was so ready for the chance to be his MawMaw. I'm thrilled that I get to be Brooklyn's MawMaw, I have every intention of making sure that girl knows that her grandparents will cherish and love her forever, and spoil her along the way. Still I miss the little boy, I can imagine him riding with his Pappy (Earl) in his truck, going to get his hair cut with him. I can imagine the active little legs running after him. I can imagine the sweet kisses he would give his Momma, and him carrying a fishing pole trotting after his Daddy. I can imagine him patting Brooklyn on the back after she had fallen and assuring her it was all right. That's the pain of losing a child, what makes it different then losing a parent, the what could have beens.

I knew a sweet little baby boy named David, and I will always carry him in my heart. Grief is not something to get over, it's something to get through, and I will get through it even as it lingers through my entire life.  I am my mothers daughter, my daughter is her mothers daughter. We are strong, we are sentimental, and we are loved, by a mighty God who knows and cares.

I am thankful that I don't have to imagine Brooklyn running after her Pappy, soon enough those active little legs will carry her after him. She can just about give kisses to her sweet Momma now, and I know it won't be long before her Daddy puts a fishing pole in her hands. I believe one day Brooklyn will be a big sister, possibly to another brother, and she will pat him on the back and say its going to be ok.

I cherish the memories of our David. I look forward to the day I will hold him in my arms again, until then I must carry on, and cherish all the other precious children God allows into my life.

One day at a time, my husband always says, one day at a time,