September 20. I’ve found that on some of his birthdays, I’ve been more hopeful/joyful of the promise of seeing him again. Others I’ve been angry – not so much at God – but at having to spend his birthday at a cemetery and all that entails.
This 5th birthday I’ve been dreading. With a knot in my stomach kind of a feeling. It’s because the more time that goes by, the farther away it is that he was here with us. And him feeling so far away is so hard. Today and the days leading up to them, I’m just sad. I miss him. I want to see my little 5 year old boy that looks like his brothers and sister running around, anticipating all the magic that a birthday brings at that age. I wonder what he would want as his birthday theme. Thomas the train like Ezra? Batman like Silas? But he would have his own personality, his own interests and loves, so he would probably choose something different. I want so badly to know what he would’ve wanted. I want to picture him just as he would be. I want to know the color of his eyes. But I can’t. And some days I embrace the knowledge that our Father is in control and has provided us with what we need to endure. But other days, like today, I am freshly stricken with his loss and stumbling along as if I’m missing a piece of my body.
So today is different than it’s ever been. We are mourning a 5 year old for the first time, and while the promise of eternity is still the only hope that gives us a joy unexplainable, we just miss him in our arms. Achingly.
The death of a beloved is an amputation.
~ C. S. Lewis