My Mama Heart Cried Today

"I don't think this park is for 4 1/2 year olds. I need harder things to climb. I will be 5 this summer, you know."

Those words cut deep into my mama heart. It was a beautiful February day, and I decided we would enjoy an hour or so at the park when I picked Trice up from preschool. I took them to the least muddy (but still plenty of fun puddles) park which is also the park that is best for kiddos Eliana's age. As he slung himself over the rocking horse, climbed to the top of the play set in 2 seconds, and made it halfway down the slide just by sitting down at the top, I couldn't help but think back..

March 29, 2013

Trice was just shy of 7 months old. It was a gorgeous day, much like the weather we've had recently, so we threw jackets on and headed to the best tiny human park in town. We documented every moment of the process (which kind of makes me sad because I couldn't tell you the first time Eliana went to a park - I'm pretty sure it was the day we brought her home from the hospital..) Papa went along, of course. 

..and it was magical..

and then there he was in 2014..

..and 2015...

I knew before we went to the park that day that those words might be coming. I'd noticed the last time we were there that he really HAD outgrown that park I loved so much. So many memories - the park we ALWAYS went to when his best friend Syd still lived here because it was within walking distance of their house. All the picnics. The time he climbed the tree and fell out. The million times I'd climbed through the tunnel with him. 

Part of me  just hoped I had more time. I often find myself wishing I had more time, but I'm careful not to let my wish for more time interfere with the time I do have. 

I'm the kind of person who reads all those sappy articles about how when your kids grow up you'll wish you had spent more time with them and less time cleaning, etc. and cries because I don't want my kids to grow up but not because I'm not cherishing the moment. I would say I genuinely cherish 99.9% of the moments - even the tough ones - because I feel it.  I KNOW I'm living the best days of my life. I KNOW it's going to fly by. I truly do enjoy the time I have with these sweet blessings God has entrusted to me. 

And the other day when he climbed out of the bathtub by himself, I wondered when the last time was that he needed me to lift him out. When we headed out for a walk and he hopped on his bike and took off down the trail I wondered when the last time was he rode within arms reach in the stroller. As he set the table and drank out of a breakable glass, I wondered when the last time was he used a sippy. And most recently he's been sleeping all night in his own bed. Pretty soon I'm sure I'll wonder, "When was the last time he came to find me in the middle of the night?"

Watching your kids grow up is the greatest blessing - it's the way it's supposed to happen - it's natural and apparently impossible to keep them little forever. I get it. I embrace it. I'm amazed by it. I'm grateful for it. 

But today.. my mama heart cried. 

Death without a Funeral

The last few years of my life have been filled with an incredible amount of grief and loss - so much that one would wonder how I keep going with a smile on my face. To be honest, there are days I haven't felt like I COULD keep going. There have been days heartache and tears have won, but through it all - I have never doubted His plan or love for me. 

At a Jason Gray concert this summer, I heard a song that described these losses perfectly -- it is called "Death without a funeral" and you should listen to it. 

"When there's nothing we can bury in the dirt
No place to lay the memory of all the things that were

No way to feel the closure, no ending to the hurt

It's a death without a funeral."
Jason Gray, Death Without a Funeral

There was no funeral when I lost family member after family member to divorce. There were no heartfelt sympathies sent my way when I finally had that best adult friend I had longed for my entire life only for her to move away and for us to slowly drift apart. There was no goodbye when I watched someone I love dearly be captured by addiction. There was no sorrowful music when my mother walked out the door and out of my life for a few years. 

I would never downplay the finality of death. These "deaths" I have experienced can't compare to the pain and suffering of losing someone completely - as in no way of ever spending time on Earth with them again. All of these people are still here; they just aren't with me. I can watch their lives continue on, but I won't be a part of them. In some of these cases, I am still a part of their lives but the relationship I have with them has been changed forever. 

..there's no healing without grieving..

I've had my share of funerals over the past few years - some that were hard, very hard. Some that brought peace because suffering had ended or their "time" seemed to fit in with the cycle of life. Knowing that those who have left this Earth are safe in our Savior's arm is the hope I cling to on the days I miss them so much the tears won't stop falling. 

But the "deaths" that have been the hardest are truly those that came with no sympathy cards, no meals at my door, no prayers and well wishes, and no goodbyes. Those are the deaths that force me to make a choice each morning - to choose to continue breathing without people I love. But more importantly, those are the "deaths" that constantly remind me of my Savior's love - and that He is truly he only one who will never leave or forsake me. He will be with me now and forever - long after all the things of this Earth of gone. My family and my friends may not stick around - but He will be with me for all time. People around me will make poor choices - but I wont carry the burden. My heart will ache, and I will long for the relationships that were so near and dear to me - but I wont be so caught up in the "what might have beens" that I fail to see the glory of what is.

...when you see me, I'm still breathing - though a million things have died inside of me.. 

So while I continue to grieve the loss of several loved ones who remain on this Earth, I look forward to an eternity in Heaven where there are no tears, no pain, no suffering - where I can wake each day and not feel the loss of those I love dearly and where I pray each missed moment and memory we didn't get to make will seem like so insignificant compared to the beauty of