oh, my wonderful normal
Today was Saturday. Today, we made homemade pizza, played play-dough, and then went to Toys R Us, just to get out of the house. (We left without a purchase, but did come away with a renewed appreciation for the free train table and Thomas train cars Clark inherited from my brothers. Those puppies are not cheap.) We got Dairy Queen on the way home. We talked a lot. And laughed a lot. Clark made a huge mess with his ice cream. Alice learned how to sit up all by herself. It was cold outside. We whined about being tired. We wished for Spring.
Tuesday Whitt, born October 11, 2006, was diagnosed with cancer in late July. I know exactly what I was doing in late July. I was waiting for Alice, hurrying-up the days, wishing they would go faster. Last night Tuesday passed on to her eternal home. She was two. Barely two. Just like Clark.
It's hard in blogland, being connected to real moms and their real stories. They aren't always boring and regular. I have read many that have broken my heart.
We can't hold on to our babies. We can't keep them little. We can't keep them. We can love them and make their hearts feel cozy and teach them right from wrong, but they don't belong to us. They belong to the Lord.
Days like today, in all their glorious boring regularness, are a gift.
In the entry Tuesday's mom posted yesterday morning, I found so much to identify with in her photos from the previous year--her son and his Superman cape, photos of nursing her baby on her bed, even her haircut in the photo... it all felt familiar. I couldn't stop thinking, that could be me.