Well hello there, it's been a while hasn't it?
Life has been so extremely busy, that I lost the chance and time to write. I didn't write Caysen an 18 month letter (mom fail), and I haven't been using my outlet of writing for myself, for my kids, for anyone to remember our journey.
Sometimes you just have to be in the mood to write. Sometimes, there just isn't enough time in the world, to sit down and say what you want to say. The words you want to write that you feel inside just don't fall out onto the keyboard the way you like or hear in your head.
I have written lots of letters, summaries, stories for both boys, our families struggles, all on this little old blog. Usually they are fairly easy to write, to tell and to express.
But a few weeks ago, I was given the beautiful opportunity to write for my friend. The chance to speak at her funeral was one that I knew I wanted to do, no question. The hard part? The hard part is the writing. How does one, with a heart so incredibly full of love and words and adjectives, summarize the best friend they've had into a short little speech that explains what her life meant to you and your family? How is that even remotely possible?
It wasn't an easy thing to do. I started over many different times. Deciding what to say that could adequately explain what she meant. I think I did a good job, yes. But I think with more time to heal, more time to deal with emotions, I could come up with a novel.
As I sit here while I type this, my sweet little half of a heart youngest son, Caysen, sits in my lap. He lets me play with his extremely cold, blue hand and I kiss his hair, he looks at me with his yogurt stained face, watching the tears slide down my cheek, and he tries to understand what that means. He doesn't understand tears, and searches my face for what I'm feeling. And what I'm feeling is that I still can't believe the journey that our family has been on.
The very journey that Andi played a HUGE role in, and that I will forever be grateful.
The hardest part to accept - is that she is no longer here. I can accept and know that she is safe, healthy, not in pain, hearing without hearing aids, and will be waiting for us in Heaven when we get there. I feel that she was saved from something worse, more than we could ever think or know because we aren't God himself, and only he truly knows. I know that God took her because that was the best option for her.
But, the hard part is that she IS NOT HERE. She isn't here to watch my boys grow. To see Caysen get big, after all she did for him. To know the role she played. She is not here to talk me down from the proverbial medical ledge with a corny joke or funny story; when I'm stressed out from germs and lab results and upcoming heart caths and open heart surgeries. She isn't here to continue doctoring, to finish what she started. To finish what she had such an amazing drive and determination to complete - despite having every POSSIBLE and potential thing she could have to make things more difficult. (hello - have you ever met a deaf doctor - that was still a total bad ass? Have you ever met someone living across the country from her husband and still one of the bubbliest and funnest people you have ever met?). Yeah, didn't think so. Because despite the odds stacked against her, it made her more determined, more confident that she was doing what she was supposed to be doing.
That is such an admirable thing. To know, without a doubt, despite the troubles and hardships, that God has put kids and medicine on your heart to do, despite every road block. I pray when God speaks to me that I will always be so obedient.
A wise friend told me, which knocked the wind out of me -- but she said that she would never, ever consider bringing Andi back and taking her out of the grasp of our Lord and Savior. She said she couldn't be that selfish. The more I think about it? So true. When we are in His presence, it will be such a powerful thing, so awe inspiring, that we won't even be able to stand upright. We will fall to our knees as His greatness renders us speechless. How could I take her away from that? What a great and beautiful thing, that she is up there happy, healed, whole, with all of the loved ones who went before her, patients she cared for, and her grandmother that she spoke so highly of.
I think about her often. I think about her husband and family. I know that if I am hurting, they are hurting a thousand times over. I pray they find peace in the Lord, their Savior. I pray they know, they see, His glory and his goodness. I pray that they turn to Him, as there is nothing, NOTHING, Andi would want more, than to spend an eternity in heaven with her family and loved ones.
It doesn't take away from how hard it hurts. Tonight, at bedtime, Camden and I were saying his prayers. He prayed for Andi and her family, and said "Please help them to not be sad and to not miss Andi while she is in heaven". Then he turned to me and asked me "Mom, were you Andi's friend?" I answered yes, and he did something he never had before - He prayed "Please help Andi to not miss Mom too much, and for Mom to not miss Andi". He was hugging me in the same way Andi would hug me, standing high enough so I could hear his heart. I always took comfort in hearing her heart beat, strong and powerful. I would always pray that Caysen's would sound as strong as hers. But at the same time, it was all so bittersweet. I realized I don't get to listen to her heart anymore. Physically or emotionally. I miss physically hearing her heart. I miss knowing what's on her heart. I miss that simple comfort.
But because of her, I have THREE hearts in my family to listen to. To savor. To love on with my heart. Like I have said before, she made our family whole.
We both said, and I even have it in her handwriting, that God knew what He was doing when that pharmacy messed things up. Him bringing us together was a gift in more ways than we could ever count. Thank you, God. For your goodness you bring to our lives and allowing this angel into ours.
"You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world". 1 John 4:4
Twelve Days of Boots: Day 7 by The Pioneer Woman
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