He picked a book and I picked a book. It is our bedtime ritual. Tucked in a the far corner of the book shelf was Wyatt’s choice, “Does a Kangaroo Have a Mother Too”. and I chose “You are All My Favorites”. Both books telling about the love of a mother for her child. I smiled at our random selections and how perfectly the messages of both coincided.Wyatt had not chose this book in a long time and so I wasn’t expecting to find what was lost.
There on the jacket of the book, in her perfect teacher handwriting, “To Wyatt. Happy 2nd Birthday! With much Love, Miss Christina and Ashley”.
And that’s all it took for a lump to make its presence in my throat and tears to build in my eyes.
I struggled through every line of that story, remembering the day she gave it to him. She always had a reason for every gift she gave and she delighted in telling her reason for picking that gift. She told me she bought it for him because he had the greatest mom. In my eyes though, she was the rock star of all moms. She alone seemed to do to perfection what two parents should have done…widowed way too soon.
With every, “Does a giraffe have a mommy, too?” I couldn’t help but think of the one who doesn’t now. The one who counts every 25th of every month as another month since she lost her. I’m sorry sweet girl. I’m so sorry.
I hugged my little man a little tighter as I said his prayers. I kissed his cheeks a little longer. Then I walked out his door and fell into a puddle of tears.
I. miss. her. so. much. it. hurts.
So, until heaven, this is the way I will bump into her.
It will be in the random moment.
Like when we passed by a restaurant in an out the way place and Chad says, “Gosh we haven’t been here since Mark’s birthday when…Christina went with us.”
Or in the just because card from her I found stored in my memory box that is now and will always be displayed in my home.
In her picture by my bed.
In the gifts that she gave us.
In my memories.
I find her in the random and that is all I have left.