You'd think after 25 years, I'd be able to wrap my mind around the fact
that you are really gone.
However, today I find myself still trying to grasp it, as if the phone just rang.
That phone call feels like, it was a cross between 25 minutes and 2,500 years ago.
I know for those who loved you the most, the loss never leaves, the grief never completely ends. Today...we remember you.
I hate that I don't remember your voice.
I love...that I still hear it, when your mom speaks.
I hate that I don't get a glimpse of your sparkly eyes.
I love...that I still get to see it, when your daddy smiles.
I hate that I don't get to see all your barrettes and accessories and ridiculous shoes.
I love...that your nieces, are dripping from head to toe in them.
I hate that you aren't physically here, to share a laugh spend time with.
I love...that Kakie & Anne are.
So...God, with all the respect I have in me,
I still sometimes shake my head in confusion as to why
Ramona's and Jon's invitations came so early in their lives.
It was the Moorman's baby girl
It was the McWilliams' baby boy.
It wasn't fair.
It felt yucky then and quite frankly, it feels yucky 25 years later.
As I type this, I realize I don't need to explain this to you, do I?
You get it, don't You?
You too, lost your One and Only Son.
At the memorial service of a 2 year old little girl last week, Dinah said...
"The actual invitation to Heaven, must trump, the timing of its arrival."
I bless you with all that I have in me, for Your Sacrifice.
For in Your great love and graciousness-
We now have a way back to them.
"I Am The Resurrection and The Life.
He who believes in Me will live, even though he dies." ~John 11:25
God, Thank You for the precious lives of Ramona and Jon. I ask that you cover The Moormans and The McWilliams with the peace that passes all understanding. Thank You for carrying us every single day for 25 years and for the promise that we will see them again.