It's been five years since Patricia and I held Emily in our arms and sang to her as she passed from mortality into paradise.
I don't mourn losing Emily, because we didn't lose her.
I mourn that she suffered.
I used to mourn that my children experienced such a heart-breaking event. Looking back, though, I don't mourn that any more. But I mourn it again for other children any time they lose a sibling, or a parent.
I mourn that I do not remember as much as I want to about Emily. Up until about age 35 or so, I considered my memory on of my strengths. For the last 5-8 years, however, my memory has been simply terrible. I cannot remember things and/or experiences from week to week or month to month. Somethings I remember very well; but there are many times I simply have to trust Patricia, or a co-worker, etc. that what they are saying did, in fact, happen. I do not know what sets apart the experiences I remember from those that I don't remember well. Take Emily, for example. I struggle to remember many specific moments from her life, but I remember things in general. Knowing that my memory was poor, I did write down some memories just after she died; but unfortunately, I can't recall a whole lot from the bullet points that I wrote down. It's not just with Emily, though; I cannot remember many specific experiences with any of my children. I should learn from this that I need to write more frequently.
I don't think Emily is waiting to see us again. I tend to believe in a wrinkle in time.
But, we are waiting to see her again.
Lord Jesus, Come!
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Back on the wagon
I had been good since February. Avoided it like the plague almost.
And I recognized the benefits and knew that I was enjoying a happier, peacefull-er life without it.
Then, without thinking too much about it, I fell off the wagon.
Sometime last week.
And one sip wasn't enough; I began to take bigger sips, maybe even a gulp or two.
So, before I completely succomb to it's snare once again, I come to my blog to publicly (technically it's public--nevermind that I have maybe three readers) commit to sobriety once again.
Darn politics.
And I recognized the benefits and knew that I was enjoying a happier, peacefull-er life without it.
Then, without thinking too much about it, I fell off the wagon.
Sometime last week.
And one sip wasn't enough; I began to take bigger sips, maybe even a gulp or two.
So, before I completely succomb to it's snare once again, I come to my blog to publicly (technically it's public--nevermind that I have maybe three readers) commit to sobriety once again.
Darn politics.
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