February 10 is coming. It’s coming whether or not I’m ready for it. It’s coming whether or not I can wrap my head around the fact that it’s been a whole year since I held our son. It’s coming and there’s no avoiding it. Some days, I wish time would jump forward and I could just be through it. Cross it off the list of “firsts” without George Mason and be on my way. There’s a lot of unknown about his day until I’ve been through it at least once. I don’t like unknowns and yet it’s been a whole year of unknowns. I’m dreading his day. I want it to be a good day. I want to be intentional about celebrating.  about mourning. About allowing myself, and my family, to cry or laugh or stomp our feet. To be and feel and do whatever makes sense and is necessary to get through the day.

My mama went to be with Jesus on March 12, nearly 3 years ago. That was a horrible day but it ended with hope because we know that death isn’t the end of our journey. As the first anniversary of her death approached, I felt many of the same things. I was terrified of what that day would hold for me. I didn’t want to face that day, much like I don’t want to face George Mason’s day. Except the first March 12 without my mama was actually really beautiful. God is so good and so caring. He gave me exactly the mercies I needed for that day and I can trust that he will do the same for every February 10 for the rest of my life.

I don’t know what his day holds for me or my family but I know that my God is good. And that’s something that can take away all of the fear and anxiety out of the waiting. Something that I am extremely grateful for. And something that I will cling to in the days that lead to George Mason’s day.