Dear husband of mine,
Typing this letter out to you feels just as surreal as writing your eulogy felt, last year. I don't remember much from the day you left this world, but I do remember one of the things that mama said to me, "He's leaving a legacy in the form of precious children and you get the pleasure of raising them." I got the best of you when you gave me our babies.
I'd take the heartache a gazillion times over if it meant we'd get to create such precious little souls together. I couldn't have fathomed I'd still be raising any of them when you left this world, though.
We didn't get to serve you breakfast in bed, or go swimming with you, or have a big cookout...all of the simple things that made you the happiest every Father's Day. But you were on our minds and in our hearts all day. I pray that you felt all of our love to you from here. I can only imagine that while you probably didn't celebrate an occasion such as Father's Day, up there today, that this was the best Father's Day you've ever had.
Days, like today, make me so thankful that Revelations 21:4 tells us that "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be anymore pain, for the former things have passed away." I'm thankful that you can't feel the sorrow that your passing left behind. Our littlest guy has had a tough day. They all have, really. I can't fix it. All that I can do is pray and love on them. Each time I see them cry, though, I can't help but to feel as though my efforts will never be enough. I'm trying so incredibly hard to make their lives a little easier and their grief process more bearable. I feel incredibly weak, today. Even as I spill these words from my heart, I know that you can't feel this despair and I'm glad that you can't.
My plan, to celebrate you, was to have the kids write you letters on lanterns to send up into the sky...but Jacob wasn't emotionally ready for that. So, we did it tonight (Monday, the day after Father's Day...why does it always take me so long just to do one post, these days?) instead. The kids really seemed to enjoy doing that for you.
My prayer is that it helped them, even if in just a small way. It was emotional for me. I thought my knees would give out as I lit my lantern and let it go. It's such a small insignificant gesture, I suppose, but it felt like saying goodbye again. I've said goodbye to you a million times, it seems, in these past ten months. I don't know when that stops but I know that it hasn't gotten any easier.
I constantly thanked you in life, but I can't help but continue to thank you for making sure that your wife and children (including ones who weren't biologically yours) were always taken care of. I am forever grateful for the life we created together. Loving and missing you on this first Father's Day without you, and for all of my remaining days.
Relishing in His goodness...
Christy
