Letters to Taylor: On Singing Again
My sweet girl,
I am getting accustomed to the barren space in my world without you here. It’s strange how the pain still feels vast and deep, yet a numbness surrounds it. I don’t know how to compartmentalize the grief of losing you because you came from me and are a part of me. But the new routines of daily living are beginning to take shape and actually stick.
This week I’ve been reminded of you in the most precious ways. On Monday, our family hosted another family whose daughter has MPS. Your friend, Reagan, who received some of your equipment and supplies after you graduated to heaven, is a ball of fun. The entire family is so wonderful and caring, and we all enjoyed a lasagna dinner around the table. They brought us a beautiful thank you card and a garden stone that I can’t wait to place.
Remember how I took dinner to our friends, Jack and Betty? And I felt such a reassurance from the Lord that serving others who are suffering is part of what I am meant to do? In my letter to you on reminders, I said:
“I suppose some can scientifically explain the existence of purple clouds. But no one on earth can explain the timing of a purple sky after a moment of obeying the Spirit of the Lord.”
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I opened the door to say goodbye to our Monday evening guests and the sky? Gorgeous purple. I personally believe that God let you paint it and what a display you made! Breathtaking.
A friend shared with me the Facebook Easter Sunday memory that popped up in her feed. You and Scarlett were color-coordinating that year. Such beauties!
I finished reading the book, Grace Disguised, which was given to me by a friend who lost her son a few years ago. What a profound impact the author made on me through his words on grief and sorrow. I rarely read a book again immediately after finishing it, but I’m ready to dive into this one again. It’s that rich. One of the topics mentioned is how the holidays affect those who are grieving. We haven’t had a big holiday since losing you, but Easter is coming up and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.
22 years of preparing an Easter basket for you with all your favorites is about to end. No more reason to shop for a special hair ribbon.
I won’t get to hang your dress on the closet knob the night before. No creative candy substitutes like rubber toys safe to chew on or cute bibs. I won’t be looking for a new sippy cup.
And while the tears stream down my face just from typing out that list of sorrows I already know that I’ll miss, I can’t help but smile and think about how the resurrection of Jesus is sweeter than it’s ever been to me.
Because of what He did on the cross for us and because He conquered sin, death, and the grave, you are alive and healed! To know that you are alive and whole is beyond my wildest dream.
O praise the name of the Lord our God. O praise His name forevermore. For endless days we will sing your praise. O Lord, O Lord, Our God.
I can only imagine how incredible it must feel for you to have the ability to sing your praise to the Lord once again. So while my heart will sorely miss holding your little hand this Easter, be sure to sing an extra note of praise in the presence of our risen King for me. I’ll do my best to join you from down here.
All my love,