Two years ago today, the judge signed the paperwork that allowed me to begin making the transition from “aunt” to “mom.” On this date, nearly four months after my brother died, I obtained sole custody of my two nephews.

The wounds of grief are still there, of course, but I find that I need to replace the bandage less frequently now. When I think about the notice that I received on May 22, 2009, saying that the judge had signed the guardianship papers, I still feel a tremendous sense of relief wash over me. If it couldn’t be my brother who would raise them, then Lord willing, let it be me. That was my (and my parents’) earnest prayer during those early months. The “system” may get a lot of [well deserved] flak for its bureaucratic problems, but in this case – for once, at least – it came through.

For all of the difficult days, for all of the rough transitions, for the grief manifested as anger when they didn’t have the words to say how they felt … it has been worth it. I don’t know why — and trying to figure it out only hurts my brain — but for some reason beyond the scope of my understanding, God saw fit to entrust this task to me. I pray that the next two … ten … twenty years will honor him as I try to raise these precious boys alongside my birth children and train them all to be godly young men who seek him with all their hearts. In the end, that is all that matters.