It's funny this thing called grief.
Right after Jeff passed away I felt a sense of relief. Relief that he wasn't suffering any longer. Relief that the twenty-four hour care was over. (Selfish of me I guess, but we were all so tired - Jeff, Cherene Bill and I). Relief that Jeff was in the loving arms of our Lord, finally able to breath deeply again.
Yesterday Cherene arrived with the boys.
Just the three of them.
As I was preparing the house for their arrival I starting thinking about how this was our new normal. The three of them and Bill and me. Five instead of six.
My grief has gone from relief to sadness.
I miss my boy.
What I wouldn't do to have Jeff here with us, whole and well. To be able to have him walk out on that football field and be recognised with the rest of his team mates for their four consecutive Valley Championships. To fill that empty chair at our dinner table. To brag about my collections and my decorating like he used to do
and to eat just one more smiley face cookie and get crumbs all over the floor. (Well maybe I don't miss the crumb part).
Last night we went to the game.
Just the five of us.
It reminded Bill and me of those crisp fall evenings when we cheered on Jeff's team while we drank hot chocolate and ate hot dogs in the stands.
We wore green and white
and stood on the sidelines at half time and cheered the boys through the tunnel
and we cheered again when they scored.
Some things never change.
Sadly somethings do.
Encourage one another,
