Today has been a very bad, no good, horrible, awful kind of day. It really honestly has nothing to do with grief either, just life circumstances and unfortunate timing. The problem with that, is when I'm feeling frustrated or anxious, or I'm just generally having a "day," I miss my son. I miss him so much in the happy moments. I want him by my side. I want him being part of the happy memories that will be part of our family's story. In those wonderful, joyful, exciting, and very good moments, I miss him something awful. But on days like today, where nothing seems to be going right, I miss him differently. I'm easily swayed in the direction of thought that longs for my son to be here, because if he were here this awfulness (though most likely made worse by the logistics of a 4 month old) would somehow seem less daunting. That on a day when the car isn't doing its thing and you're getting over a stomach bug, I could look down at my sweet son playing with his big sister and just know it's all going to work out ok.
I'm reminded of him in all sorts of ways throughout every day. Those reminders are hard but they are also so important. I don't ever want to forget my sweet son and it's so easy for my broken heart to lie to me and tell me I will. Audrey and I are both feeling a bit under the weather today so we're snuggled up on the couch watching a movie. I wish George Mason was here with us. I'm listening to her sing along with the music and loving her spirit and this adventure we are on together. She would've been a great, albeit slow learning, big sister. She would've been jealous but she would've been caring. She would've been a bit of a bully but she would've loved him with so much passion it hurts my heart to think about. She would've been selfish and had a hard time sharing but she would've loved every second of sharing her tidbits of wisdom. The things that make me remember George Mason will always be a part of my life. They are going to be wonderful and painful but they are going to let me share his life with the people who never knew him.
Today has been a long day but not because of George Mason. In fact, the little memories of him, the sadness of missing him, the joy of having known him, they are a bright spot in this horrible, awful day. Thank you, Jesus for that precious little boy and his sister. Thank you, Jesus for the sadness that lead to seeking you. Thank you, Jesus, that no matter the emotions attached to my memories or the things that remind me of George Mason, I can be thankful that he was your child long before he was mine. Thank you, Jesus, that in all things I can find and see your mercies and endless love.