When someone close to me loses someone close to them, it always seems to rip off the Band-aid that keeps my heart sealed. I don’t think the grief wound ever completely heals. I love you, Nathan.

 

Ri wanted to know if you knew that we were at the beach this weekend. I told him that I didn’t know for certain, but I was sure you’d be glad that he was having fun. He seemed satisfied with that answer.

 

Often times, out of the blue, one of the boys will mention you. Just the other day, Ry said while we were in the car, “I wish Uncle Nathan hadn’t died.” I just said, “Me too, babe.”

 

These conversations always seem to start in the car, for some reason. On another day recently, Ri said – and I thought this was tremendous progress, on his part, to voice his grief!! – “I wish Daddy didn’t die.” I wonder if he & Ry had been talking … who knows?? I just reminded him that you loved him very much, and how neat it will be to see you again in heaven. He nodded and went on to talk about something else. It was as if he just needed to say it and get it off his chest. I was glad to hear him voice it, though; he is the one who seems to bottle up his feelings.

 

Sometimes when I feel like a screw-up and pray that I’m raising the kids to become godly young men (and not outlaws!), I run into someone in the elevator or hallway at work, and they’ll offer encouragement about how well we’re doing. That warms my heart to hear. God seems to put people in my path to encourage me at exactly the right time that I need a boost.