Letter for Tess

When I heard the news my heart grasped for it's relentless optimism and clung to hope from the beginning.
That in this day and age with all the medical advancements there must be a way to escape even a body riddled with cancer.
It would be hard but surviving would be possible.
Now the weeks have turned into months and the options have ceased.
We pray.
We long to do something that will make it better.
We know you such sweet soul with the voice of an angel.
My niece, younger than me by two years.
Accepting your absence will be too much to bear.
I see your daughter's face and this ache takes over all of me.
I glimpse a picture of your mom next to you with a cake on mother's day and there are no words.
I hear the pain in the voices of those who hold you dear and I look heavenward for an explanation, only to be met with silence as the mystery of God unfolds.
I long for something tangible, something visible, to shine some sun in the midst of the rain.
Your life and your courage as you carry this cross have taught me more than you know.
I will cherish more and rush less.
I will soak up those moments when I have to tie Cooper's shoe for the 100th time.
I will put down the broom and instead sit on the floor and play blocks with Adelaide.
I will allow Julian to ask me 30 questions about who will win if the battle is between a polar bear and a T-Rex.
I will not waste so much time watching TV or browsing the computer for things I don't need.
I will get outside and marvel at the sunshine each day.
I will hold Damien's hand and play with his hair because it melts him.
I will choose forgiveness.
I will sing and dance and play music while I take the time to cook good healthy meals for my family.
I will make the effort to have people over instead of spending a quiet night reading alone.
I will tell people how much they mean to me more often.
I will thank God each day for my health and the health of my family.
I will live with intention and purpose.
I will put down my distractions and be present in each moment.
By walking with astounding grace and strength you have encouraged the masses.
For your physical weakness has cracked open windows for the beauty of your inner self and God in you to shine all over the rest of us and leave us changed in ways we never imagined.
Thank you.
We love you.

Slumber

So this is now what our bed looks like at 9 am. Some might call it tragic but on rainy mornings like today it is nothing short of fabulous, a gift that will pass too soon. Then I will have to ask my hubs to almost push me off the bed at night and to place his knee right in the center of my back just so I can sleep.