A Week of Good-Byes
Two weeks ago today I looked at my son and said, "He doesn't look good." Eight days later he was on his journey to heaven escorted by the angels. Seven days of saying good-bye. Sitting by his bed day and night, tears and laughter, joy and sorrow. How many times do we say good-bye before it feels like we've said it enough and the enormity of it sinks into our soul?
Through tear soaked words and red stained eyes, the pain of good-bye escaped my lips over and over again, mixed with the emotions of "forever". It seems like forever that I will see him again.
As I write this, my nostrils are filled with the amorous scent of a room filled with flowers; the tangible evidence of a funeral.
A week of good-byes and a week of miracles all the same.
I am living in belief.
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