I didn't sleep last night. I tossed and turned, sang the lyrics of Beauty and the Beast over and over (Audrey is a little obsessed these days), and just couldn't clear my mind. I finally gave in around 4am and just got out of bed. I didn't realize until about 9am what day it is... June 10, 4 months since George Mason's day. I'm sure it probably has a lot to do with last nights restlessness. I'm not always sad. I'm not dealing with the deep stabbing pain all day every day. Life has moved on. I'm doing ok. I'm even happy and willing to look to our future on most days. Last nights restlessness was out of the norm - I've been able to sleep much better the last month or so. Despite the fact that I feel like life is going ok, things like sleepless nights or ugly cry days still hit me. They often catch me off guard but when I look back they always have some sort of weird, yet oddly valid, trigger. I didn't go to bed last night knowing today was the 10th, I just went to bed after a long day of construction. I went to bed with a plan to throw myself into more construction. But then I didn't sleep. I wasn't able to turn my brain off. 

It's kind of hard to believe that it's been 1/3 of a year since we met and held our sweet son. It's hard to believe that time keeps passing, that we are getting further and further from his day, because it still feels like I held him just yesterday. Yesterday. That moment in time that is just out of reach but so close to today. That's what it feels like when I think about my son. Yesterday. I remember this weird recurring thought after my mom died. It would startle me: maybe she didn't really die. Maybe we misread her breathing or heart beat. It kept coming back for months. Every once in a while I feel the same way about George Mason. His life ended 4 months ago but it still seems like I saw him yesterday. I know he's gone. I know that I'm not going to ever hold him again. I'm not expecting him to suddenly show up in our home. I just miss him and my mind and heart are dealing with that in whatever capacity they are capable as each day passes. 

So much can happen in 4 months. Audrey was sitting up at 4 months. She was done with being forced onto her tummy or to stare at the ceiling. She knew what she wanted and to figured out how to get it. She was flirting and interacting. She could steal your heart in 30 seconds flat. As these month anniversaries pass, I wonder what George would have been like. Would he have been like his sister? Would he have been completely different? Would I be writing his 4 month letter and telling him how he had kept up with his sister and was sitting up? Would I be telling him about all the hearts he had stolen and the grins he had perfected? Would he be calm? Passive? Assertive? Active? A good sleeper? I wish I knew those things. I wish I had him here to learn and get to know. Instead I have memories from 16 hours. That's really hard but it could be worse. At least there are 16 hours. So as I do life today, I'm going to remember my son and treasure all the things I know about him. 

George Mason, you were a fighter and that spirit allowed us to meet you. I'm so very thankful for that. Daddy and I miss you so much, but we know that Jesus is a pretty cool person to spend eternity with; you just got there a little quicker than most people. We love you so much. You are our little boy and we wouldn't have it any other way.