Missing you . . .

This week will mark the year of your passing.  As we revisit holiday traditions (Halloween parties, etc.), it is so easy to remember this time last year . . those last tortured days that were painful but a gift for us as well. . just to hear you breathe and feel your hand in ours just a little bit longer.  It is remarkable to me, though the signs seem so clear looking back, that we had so much hope that if we worked harder and prayed longer that maybe we could heal you.  And now it is faith that I rely on when I can't make sense of it and when the sadness sets in.  These last few weeks have been harder than usual for all of us.

Last Halloween we took your boys to a little church party  and then trick or treating with cousins. . . while you laid in a hospice bed miserably fighting so that you could take them this year.  

I am confident you are smiling down on them this year Lans, free from your broken body. . . . sometimes I am selfish and wish I could have just a few more minutes to hold your hand and hear you breathe. Maybe all that suffering was for us so we would get to a point when our desire for you to be free was greater than our need to keep you at any cost.