Today

My son is gone.  And I am sad.

The past few days I have been working hard to get things packed as we send Josiah on his journey to his new home.  It was agonizing thinking, "Should I send this book? and that toy? and this stuffed animal?"  I know Molly enjoys them too, but the thought of Josiah never getting to play with a something he loved so much made me really sad.  So we probably sent more than we should have.  It was strange to think almost two years of his life could be contained in a 36 gallon rubbermaid container.  I think all the important things made it in, hopefully.

I've been so consumed with working and getting things ready, that today I was ready for a respite.  A time of enjoying quiet, and adjusting to one baby, and starting to decorate the nursery that I never had time to do before now.  But the house isn't as quiet and still as I imagined it would be.  I fear the work ahead of me will be much, much harder than the work behind me.  Because now the house is still filled with Josiah.  I hear his little voice as I look at his half-filled juice cup that he'll never finish, and I hear the sound of him throwing the blocks that I see that are still on the floor that he was playing with an hour ago, and I see the empty high chair he'll never sit in again.  Except, I still see him sitting there, throwing his banana on the floor, looking at me as he's doing it, and laughing.  I feel the feelings I still did when I tried to pretend like I was mad at him for throwing the food in the first place.

He is everywhere still.  His footsteps, his laugh, his deep little voice saying, "Ma Ma" and the words to all of the books he knew so well.  I can't believe I'll never get to hear him and see him again.  It seems so strange and surreal right now.  I miss him.  A lot.  I loved the person I was when I got to call myself his mom.  And I fear I'll miss her too.  

There is still so much work to be done.  Right now I am content to let every painful memory sting a little because, after all, they were all such sweet memories and blessings that God gave to me.  I am content to let him linger in the house just a little while longer.