Since it’s August 25th, I feel almost obligated to acknowledge it. Not because anyone else expects me to, but just for myself.
It’s now been 9 years to the day since the worst day of my life.
3,287 days.
And counting.
I was sitting in a church pew before the service one Sunday morning less than a month after we lost Kane in 2017 when an older lady stopped on her way to sit down. She usually had a quick comment for a laugh (or sometimes even an inappropriate comment, regardless if you saw her at the grocery store or in the middle of the sanctuary). But, in that moment and place she had something more profound as she sat down in the open spot next to me.
“Do you ever look around and wonder, ‘How is everyone just going on like nothing ever happened?’ People went to work, kids went to school, families on vacations, ballgames to go to, and you just watching them live life wondering how.”
I hadn’t expressed it that way in my head. But, I had thought the feet of the rest of the world were moving awful fast while mine were stuck in quicksand.
Something I didn’t know about her before is that she, too, had lost a child. I wasn’t so lost to think we were the only ones that ever had, but I surely didn’t know about her story. And, it wasn’t something she wore on her sleeve. My thoughts were that I would never be able to move on to a place where it wasn’t written all over my face.
And, here we are, 9 years later.
I like to think that people that meet me now don’t know about Kane.
On one hand, I’m glad. I don’t want the sympathetic looks or whispers I imagine from time to time. I also don’t want this part of my story to be the title of my life’s book.
But, on the other, I’m sad. Not because you don’t know that part of me. But, because I realize you never knew him.
Today, he would be heading fast towards his 12th birthday in October, sitting in a 6th grade classroom, and into. . . well, who knows what. But if you didn’t know us 9 years ago, that means you didn’t get the joy of being around the almost-3-year-old Kane. Funny, mischievous, loving, energetic, and all boy.
I could use the rest of the day describing the things I miss about the last version of Kane that I knew and I’m sad for those that didn’t get to know him then or at any of the stages he never got to experience.
I also wonder if those that did know him remember. I’m so thankful for how God has used his story (and ours) over the past 9 years in different ways. But, as awesome as that is, I want everyone to remember my guy!
So that sweet lady, with just a few words, simultaneously let me know that she knew the pain I was in and gave me a glimpse into a manageable future.
Like her, I carry it every day. I can honestly say I believe that I have thought about him at some point each day over the past 3,287 at some point. Sometimes, it’s an “I wonder. .,” or it comes with a smile at a memory, picture, or video. Sometimes, my eyes well up at what has always felt like an unending unfairness.
And until the Lord reunites us on the other side, I’m still counting. .
How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? . . .
. . . but, I have trusted in Your lovingkindness; My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because He has dealt bountifully with me.
– Psalm 13:1, 13:5-6
Scottish Invasion 