The mind is an amazing thing and coupled with grief odd things can happen. LOL
With that in mind, I am ready to confess for the past 4 or 5 days I've woken up mid-night with the feeling of holding baby Josiah. His head resting in the crook of my arm, my hands cupping his little bum while he nursed. It seems so real. I'm up in the middle of the night nursing my first-born son. I can feel it.
Such sweet and tender moments.
He and I alone.
But, wait.
I'm in bed.
And the last time I saw Josiah he had been savaged by evil.
No longer the little boy, but an unassuming man of God, the type who loves big and courageously and would lay down his life to protect another.
Like his father.
I weep.
I'm proud.
I'm thankful and I grieve.
This morning when the cycle began it was replaced with the thought of being in the room with Carrie and Jess when Josiah and Carrie's little Josi is born. I'm so very thankful for Josiah's girls. They've brought such joy to our family.
I find I'm smiling amidst the tears.
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