Time is something I can’t think about since losing Briggs.
I dwelt on it daily as we anticipated every first without him. His first birthday in heaven. His first anniversary of being there. The year that marked the moment he had officially been in heaven longer than he had been on earth with us.mBut after those first few years, I had to stop thinking so much about the time that was passing in his absence. Scripture tells us to take no thought for tomorrow, and I truly understand why now.
Last night, as I lay in bed talking to my husband, we giggled as we remembered our first night in our house, just a week before Briggs was brought into this world. We had been living in a camper for almost two years, and being nine months pregnant, I had gotten used to taking only a few steps to get to the kitchen from my bed. So, walking from one end of a house to the other just to get a bottle of water felt like climbing Mount Everest. Which probably sounds silly unless you’ve lived in confined quarters for an extended period of time.
I made my way back into bed after getting my water and told Josh I couldn’t believe how long of a walk that was! We love to reminisce about that memory. But as we were reminiscing, the fact that we have now been in our house for almost seven years crossed my mind. And with that came another realization. We will soon be celebrating Briggs’ seventh birthday, five whole birthdays without him here.
He should be turning seven on December 26th, but instead, he is forever two and this year marks the fifth birthday he will celebrate in heaven without me, his Mama. If I sit with that thought for too long, it hurts beyond words. So instead, I try to focus on today. I busy myself with work, with the charity, with what I can do to continue honoring his memory, how I can bring joy to his sister’s day, how I can be a good wife and friend, and how I can serve my church well. But what is missing from my life is always quietly in the background, weighing on my days no matter how full they may be.
Maybe that’s why I have learned not to count the days so much anymore. Not because the time matters any less, and certainly not because I miss him any less, but because I cannot live my life constantly measuring how long I’ve been without him. I have to live today. I have to be present for the people God has placed in front of me. I have to find joy in the ordinary moments, even when there is someone missing from them.
And I suppose that’s what time has become for me. It keeps moving, whether I’m ready for it or not. The world keeps marking birthdays, anniversaries, and years. But a mother’s heart doesn’t always move with the calendar.
I still miss my little boy, I always will. And no matter how many years pass, there will never be a day when I wouldn’t give anything to have just one more ordinary day with him.
