Always

I wasn't sure what to title this post.

Today I watched Abby play basketball and advance to the semi-finals.

I watched Sam scrimmage in preparation for the spring baseball season.

And I watched Drew's team win the championship game of a 3 day high school JV tournament at Liberty Christian High School.  Drew had two great hits and I spent the day watching all of this with my Lizzy.

But half way through Drew's game, I started thinking.  I started thinking that we didn't spend enough time in front of Daniel's coffin after the burial service.  Not enough time at all.  These thoughts swarm at the strangest of times.

Pitches were thrown, plays made, bats swung...and I am thinking, thinking, thinking...I should have spent longer.  Tears spill on my cheeks.  Sam who had went away to play for awhile during Drew's game came walking back up the bleachers mouthing "what's wrong"...they just see me and know.

I mean nothing.  Nothing new.

But everything.

Always.

And not always.

But sometimes.

I'm sure if you have buried a child you understand exactly the nonsense I just typed.

Sam Said, "what's Wrong?"

I said, "Maybe we didn't pause long enough at Daniel's coffin the day we buried him."

At a baseball game...

And he just nodded.  Because what else can the sweet 14 year old boy do.

And then I said, "But it would have never been enough time...right?!?"

I answered my own question.  And such personal, private moments are hard to have people watching.  Even if it was a private burial with only family and our closest friends.

When I talked  to Brent about it tonight he said, "Jaci, I felt like we said good-bye the night before."

After everyone left the visitation, we prayed, we took his shoes off one. more. time. and looked at those sweet little toes.  We cried together.  We said good-bye.  I snipped a lock of his hair...and a lock from his arm hair.  He had this sweet patch of arm hair right at his elbow (but on his forearm) and I trimmed that too.  And saved it.

Brent was right.

We did.

But I guess it's like the last time he was awake and fully alive at the hospital and I left him for the surgery that he would never wake up from...I always want more time.

Always.

So the title is "Always." 

I will always want more time.

And I will always long for the day I will see him again.

Always.