Thirty-three years ago today I became a mother.
I remember my first sight of that five pound, scrawny, red boy...how my heart melted. Oh, that that moment of blessedness had lasted and made me a perfect mother.
But together we grew. I am so grateful for our time together, for lessons learned from each other. Steve helped to teach me patience. And in him I saw strength and perseverance through physical trial. He taught me that we don’t have to be perfect to be loved, to positively impact those around us. As flawed as I am, he loved me unconditionally.
And I am still learning. I am learning to wait. I know I’ll see him again, hold him again. All in God’s good time.
I saw Steve in a dream last night. Our entire family was standing, as if posing for a group picture and when I looked at them from across the (yard? room?), Steve was there behind them, only his face showing. He was healthy and flashing a radiant smile at me. I need more of those dream visits with him, though I would really like to talk to him.
Today I am grateful for
31 years,
8 months,
1 week,
2 days,
and yes, even those final
4 and one half hours.
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