April 18. It used to be that date would stare back at us from the calendar, taunting us with the memories associated with it. Now it seems to sneak up on us.
Four years. It is almost unbelievable that is has been that long (or that short) since April 18, 2011. Sometimes, that day seems so near – the intensity of the emotions and the tragedy of the events so mark our souls that we can hardly escape them. Yet, in some ways we have become so accustomed to our “new normal” that it seems so long ago that our dear son left our family.
Isaac. The mention of that name pierces my heart, no matter where or when I see or hear it. When that piercing comes, I try to smile and remember all the laughter and joy that he brought to my life and the lives that he touched. It is my way to deal with the grief that is always with me, so that I don’t live in the darkness that so often accompanies it.
This year we don’t really feel like commemorating the day in some “special” way. We really want to make it as “normal” of a day as possible, Lord willing. Our weather forecasters are anticipating a beautiful day. We have some garden and yard work to tend to, which we can tackle together as a family. The children asked if we could tent outside on Friday night. Oh, how I crave to be snuggled in my warm, comfortable bed. However, Lord willing and weather permitting, we are planning to pitch the tent and bundle up under the stars tonight! I guess this is our way of trying to redeem the time, keeping to our family and blog motto.
Is this a sign of healing, wanting to experience a “normal” day on the anniversary of the most tragic event in one’s life? I don’t know, but it feels like a step in a positive direction. Even so, I can feel the tears swelling just below the surface of my flesh, overflowing from that eternal hole in my heart left there by the passing of Isaac.
Today, I pray for those who are missing their loved ones. I especially pray for those who are missing Isaac, that special boy whose contagious laughter and energy brought happiness to most everyone who knew him.
(I love you buddy and miss you so very much. Love, Dad)
Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)