Sleep ...

We were sitting in the hotel room, the three of us, staring at one another not really knowing what to do next. The phone rang and Robs sounded exhausted on the other end, she needed help with the eulogy.

Sitting there surrounded by newspaper clippings, certificates, old pictures, pizza, Root Beer, and random notes that had been gathered, we were lost in thoughts and ideas. How do you sum up someones life in a mere two pages, single-spaced 12 font? I had forgotten how hard and draining things like this are, how I had forgotten is a mystery and a miracle given our family record. Slowly, things came together and after close to four hours at that table ~ minus one much needed six minute phone call ~ I typed the final words and pushed it off for approval to the powers that be.

I got back to the hotel to find two exhausted kiddos, yay for friends that ware them out on days like this! Cass and E were quick to cuddle up in bed and asked for our same bedtime routine from home. Cass likes her nose rubbed and E his head massaged. I as I lay between them, each of them shared with me their thoughts during our ritual "Day's Highs and Lows". At first it was a review of the day, the fun they had, the things they had seen, the entertainment the guys had provided. But after a few minutes, as eyes began to get droopy Cass started talking about death, her Dad, her pets and finally the funeral tomorrow. After a few thoughts she paused, reached up and grabbed my hand from her nose and held it tight, "Kas, I wish I loved her enough to have her live." Eli grabbing my other hand from his head followed with "I just want to hug her, I want to hug her alive." I held each of their little hands long after they fell asleep, my mind and heart lost in their words.

I was Cass' age when we lost Jenn. Every 17 months or so we've gone through this but I think those emotions, so simple and raw, still find root within me with each loss. You want to love it away ~ the heart attack, the Cancer, the aneurysm, the cold that turns into a fatal virus. If you cry it out, which we all end up doing at our time ~ some later than others ~ you feel a sense of release but no resolve. You can curse the Heavens but that does nothing to change that someone you care for, depend on, is gone. Its not until you have a heart to heart with the Lord, usually in your darkest hour, that all of this somehow becomes okay for a minute. You find the peace you need to fall asleep for the first time in a week and the hope to get out of bed the next morning. And you repeat this step over and over again because we are human and our retention is like that of an eighty year-old with dementia. But our Father in Heaven is patient and will repeat the process as many times as necessary. The ache is real, the pain is acute but the cure is equally powerful and encompassing if I will seek after it, after Him.

Goodnight, I'm going to sleep.