Manic Monday

The office is quiet right now. This is usual for Mondays in the area I sit in. I'll write quickly and briefly as I eat my lunch.

It is the first day of school for two of my boys. A proud day. Another milestone. Boy were they excited and scared as we all headed into the new school as a family. Sharing in the tradition of all of us being there for the first day of school for someone who is new at going to school.

They both looked so handsome and were a bit timid but welcomed warmly by the staff. I'm so excited for them. And I have such hopes for them that they will form great friendships, learn a lot, be challenged and have a great opportunity to grow up even more. I can't believe that we have 2 in school already.

My husband commented that he wasn't sure what he was going to do having only 1 boy at home now. It'll be so quiet. So strange. I wonder how the youngest will grow and change now. He's looking for a job. I will start looking as well since we need a little more to make ends meet. I know God will provide somehow.

So we had this great moment as a family this morning. And I came to work to go through a milestone with my work family. It was a tough morning here at work. So tough my boss headed home for a few hours to get refreshed for the afternoon. He and I head to our biggest client's headquarters that we helped design to share in the retirement of one of its executive officers. I made the card this morning and it ended up taking all morning with what happened here and the layout and the printer taking turns making the card wrong. (Of course, it was not user error by many means. haha)

Over the weekend I longed for Andrew so much that I almost felt like I could reach out and touch him. I love and hate those moments. It's so tangible, the memory of him, that it drives me crazy because it's like he is just out of reach. If I could just reach out a little further, then I could hold him again. But that is not the case and my heart sinks and my body calls for him. My mind screams his name. And I can't be near anyone because it's too much. Too intense.

Someone at church, this is where I was when it happened this time, said that they had heard that mothers are rejoined with their children in heaven. Their children stay at the age they were when they passed away and then the mother gets to share in the joy of watching and being there as their lost child grows up. Now I don't know if that is true or not. But I sure don't mind the idea that maybe it is. If so, I'll be delighted to be able to perfectly parent two of my children. Alexa and Andrew. And if not, I'll still get to be with them worshipping the King of Glory making the most beautiful music ever and dancing with them forever.

Another milestone that we will not share directly with our little special. Another smile to him in my mind's eye. Another look at him in my heart with great love and affection.

I love you sweetheart and miss you!

Andrew, I really look forward to seeing you again.