Aching Arms

I love my kids. I am so blessed to have them. They are wonderful rays of sunshine in my days of some pretty major downpours. But my arms have been aching. Aching to be holding the plump, bouncy, beautiful baby that I should be holding.

We had a wonderful day Saturday helping Pop with a rock project of his. We filled the truck with rocks, then unloaded them, then relaxed on the deck in the most comfortable chairs, in the most beautiful of weather, entertaining each other with conversation and toys. But something was missing. A grandmother should be holding her youngest grandchild. This would be her excuse for not getting her chores done--she had a baby that needed to be held....in her arms. Something she was so anxiously looking forward to. It's hard to appreciate such blissful relaxation when your arms are aching, physically, from what is not in them.

We went to church this morning and my arms ached then, too. Again, I am so thankful for what I do have. The kids sitting there with me, behaving (by my standards, anyway). But Chase should be in my arms. His brother should be making him smile. My life should be perfect.

Truth is, there are times that I can not imagine what my life would be without this tragedy. I so wish this wouldn't have happened to us, but this feeling, this knowledge of what such enormous grief is, this burden that we carry....I can't imagine living my life not knowing it, now. Again, I so, so, so wish I was. I would give anything to not know this grief. But I have it and I live my life with it every day. I appreciate a beautiful day because of what is not there. I love my family more because of what is missing. I cherish those important relationships more because of one that we will never have. And my arms ache, along with my heart because I am missing Chase.