One Week Gone

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The days keep rolling by. They just don't stop, do they? Josiah isn't coming back. I keep expecting to see him. I keep wanting to pray over him inside his mommy's belly. I half-forget when I'm asleep. I still see his face, his nose, his lips, his ribs, the soles of his feet, his hands... But, it's fading. I can't remember exactly what his back looked like, or the tops of his feet. I remember his fingernails, but not his toenails. I've begun the slow process of losing him.

My pain reminds me I'm alive. Olivia's pain reminds me I am a husband, as well as a father. We're taking care of each other as best we can. God is holding us, but with our faces buried in his chest we can"t really see him. Our family and friends are helping so much. We have food in the fridge. Josiah's flowers are arranged on the piano, where he would have climbed and played. (Olivia watered them last night when she couldn't sleep.) Sympathy cards surround them. My Bible and the signed guestbook haven't moved from the piano bench since we got home from the funeral.

We want to get out of town soon. We need time somewhere else. Some dear friends invited us to visit them. Family also had opened their homes. As soon as Olivia is able, the plan is to get out of town for a while and seek God for what is next. We want to stay away as long as we can. But, it may be weeks still before we can leave.

All our days feel the same. All of them take us further away from him. They haven't started bringing us closer to him yet. I don't know when that feeling happens. Right now, the future isn't that distant hope. Right now, the future is Thanksgiving and Christmas with someone missing. The future is something that hurts to think about, because we can still feel him in our hands. I can still feel the fabric of his casket under my fingers.

One week... gone. It's still "too much." We love Josiah. We thank God for our son. And, we miss him.

Life keeps going. We keep breathing.

One week... gone.
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