How can it be five years? A letter to Reed
Reed, I woke up yesterday strangled by my emotions. Before I even lifted my head, I could feel that old familiar ache. My heart literally hurt. I longed to just hear your voice, to experience your laughter, to see the world through your beautiful blue eyes. All the things I get to do with Sawyer, Erin, and Clo and I love each shared memory. Yet, I feel like the whole world can see the hole in my heart whenever I wish I had those moments with you.
Then come other times, when I really am truly happy. I almost surprise myself, because it’s at those times I feel guilty because I wonder if I am ever supposed to be happy again. Conflicting emotions that don’t mix with what I know to be true. You would never want us to be forever sad this side of heaven, but more importantly neither would God. Simply, He would want to remind us that this is not our forever home. It is a lesson that we couldn’t forget if we wanted to, simply because even though we can’t deliver mail there we know your permanent address.
Five years ago, I never thought I would be sitting where I am now. I want to be getting ready for your second prom, planning your graduation party and trip, and buying all the great things that you would need for college. It just wasn’t meant to be a part of your story.
Just as grief is now a part of mine. Heart crushing, sneak up on you when you least expect it, grief. A pain so deep you never knew your heart had so many crevices and could hurt so badly.
But when things get so painful, I remember a sweet, red-headed boy whose whole life was defined by hope. Not just a temporary hope. Oh no! A hope rooted in a love greater than any love that I have ever given. Inspirational was a boy who believed that love was greater than hate. A boy who believed that turning the other cheek wasn’t just a saying. A boy who believed that those who hurt others were hurting themselves taught me a lot in just twelve short years. A deep faith, overflowing with love defined your life.
Sometimes, I think that you knew you were only going to be here for a brief stay. You did nothing half-way. You didn’t just read books, you devoured them. You didn’t just learn something, you consumed it. And, you didn’t just love, you loved with abandon.
It is that hope, love, and faith that has helped us to remember, to cope (and sometimes heal), and to keep alive your legacy. So that someday, we will all get to meet the ones whose lives your brief life touched. Standing in the glorious, shining light of heaven, I can only imagine then that it will all make sense.
Waiting to hug you and hold you again, but always carrying you in my heart – Momma