To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.
2 Corinthians 5:8
Last spring, I lost both of my grandmothers. This was shortly after the death of my great-grandmother at the end of 2010. Three amazing and godly women I had the privilege of having with me for almost 29 years. I miss them.
Both of my grandfathers compiled cherished letters and memories of their devoted wives. My Granddaddy wisely shared, as only a husband of nearly 58 years could, "I like to think, in simple ways, that memories of a loved one and loss of the loved one compete forever. Of course, they will both be with me forever. I just hope and pray the many wonderful memories will stay as close as possible to the loss. I cannot imagine the loss without these memories."
Loss is the given. But if we are brave, we can also embrace and celebrate the memories… singing "the songs" of our loved ones who have gone before us. By doing this, we honor the true life they now have attained, fully alive and face-to-face with the gracious King.
In this spirit, I want to share some of our special memories with Warren so that when memory and loss compete, memory wins and the Lord miraculously lessens the sting of the loss.
A few excerpts from my old journal:
"Warren was/is our wiggle worm: spunky, full of life, and would just peer at me brightly, as if to say 'Hi Mom!' He’d squeeze my finger tight. Sometimes he’d cry out like a 'seagull,' as Meade called it."
"Warren was so very cute… just so sweet, warm, soft, and yet had this slightly feisty, slightly rambunctious and very curious personality."
"I believe it was one of our last full days in the Special Care nursery before moving to the ICU, that I ‘kangarooed’ them together for about 2.5 hours (this is when I was able to hold them both on my chest in only their diapers)… so wonderful…words cannot describe this feeling. These are my most beloved memories of the twins together. I loved seeing them together. It was obvious they knew each other, and they put their precious, little arms on each other as well as on me. Even in a deep sleep, they would grip me, sometimes digging their little nails into my skin, holding onto their Mommy. I’d always tell them when I’d greet them on a new day or just in general, 'Mommy’s here. Mommy loves you SO much. It’s okay, Mommy’s here. Mommy loves you so much, so does Daddy and Jesus.' "
"I know Warren felt safe with me. He brought me so much joy; his memory and the blessing of his life will continue to do so. He had purpose; his life was not in vain. Heaven is rejoicing he is with them now."
It is hard to believe Wednesday
will be 3 years.
We love you, Warren.