Anyway, I miss you. A lot. Even though 11 years have gone by, I still find this day and the month of August kind of knock the breath out of me. I have less emotional bandwidth in August, and tasks feel harder to accomplish. I'm sure it's the shadow of grief and days remembered from your short life. It's certainly grown easier and gentler as the years have gone by, but I find I still miss you terribly, and the weight of grief still settles on my shoulders and in my stomach on marker days.
This year has been a strange and hard one for much of the world. We're in the middle of a global pandemic, and life has shifted in lots of ways. At the beginning of it all, there was a communal "we're in this together" attitude, but as the months have gone by, that team mentality has dissolved into division, blame, anger, accusation, and just a slew of ugliness. It's been so disheartening to watch. On the whole, Covid-19 has not brought out the best in people. I see a decided lack of compassion, grace, empathy, and effort to understand those who see life through a different lens. I've been guilty of it, too, finding myself upset by differing viewpoints and with friends who make choices I disapprove of. It's been hard to see my own ugliness, but God has been growing and teaching me and calling me into Himself, refining my self-righteous tendencies and reminding me of Andy Stanley's pivotal question: "What does love require of me?" And the truth is love requires so much more than self-righteousness or trying to get people to align with my thinking or pointing the finger at people who are making different choices than I am. Love requires grace. Love requires relationship. Love requires forgiveness. Love requires a heart that stays open and keeps loving, even when it feels battered and weary. Love requires seeking to understand before being understood. Love requires taking the low place and elevating others above me. It's so hard, and I have so far to go.
In the midst of the pandemic, there has also been a wide awakening to racial injustice and a move toward racial reconciliation -- something I've been way too slow to recognize and pursue. To be honest, I'm not sure how to talk about it all, but it's something God is definitely growing me in. It's hard to write about because there are so many ways I could get it wrong, but I am trying to let go of getting it just right and just make sure I am continuing to grow. I guess that's a life lesson, huh? We can't always get it just right, but we can keep growing. I don't want "just right" to hinder me from moving forward, from seeing the hurt I have caused others, from seeing my own privilege. Your dad and I have spent hours and hours and hours discussing racial injustice, and I love being on this journey of growth together. I hope we are teaching Caleb, Joel, Anna, and Eliza to be allies to people of color, to speak up against injustice, and to treat everyone -- regardless of their ideology -- with honor. It won't be easy, but again, what does love require of me? It requires a lot.
Because of the pandemic, we've been home a lot since March. Honestly, I have loved that part of it. It's been so joyful to be all together every day. Dad has to work, so we try to keep the volume down, but it has been so fun spending so much time together. Your siblings have gone through phases of tree climbing, backyard swinging, obstacle course building, bike riding, LEGO building, wall ball playing, and a host of other things. We've had countless family movie nights, played lots of family games (the current favorite is Sushi Go), and are working our way through the entire Star Wars cannon on Disney+. Every day at lunch we go down to the basement and watch a Star Wars episode or part of a movie. We've made it through Clone Wars, Rebels, Resistance, Episodes 1-3, Solo, and are in the middle of Rogue One right now. (Your sisters have skipped out on Episode 3, some of Solo, and Rogue One because they're pretty scary and intense.) I don't think we'll quite finish episodes 4-9 before school starts, but it has been such a fun tradition! I wonder if you would love Star Wars, too, or if you'd be the lone dissenter of the family. :)
Normally we would visit Egleston Children's Hospital for our annual cookie delivery and to say thank you to the CICU doctors, nurses, RT's, and staff. But with Covid, we can't do that, so we thought about who could use some love these days, and we landed on our teachers. They are in pre-planning right now, and soon they will be seeing students either face-to-face or virtually for a wildly different year of learning. They must be overwhelmed and are probably fearful. So we're planning to deliver cookies next week to our home schools in memory of you. Those teachers are heroes in my book in a normal school year, so they are even more so in 2020! We'll be making a LOT of cookies! I wish you could be here to help.
I baked a homemade 3-layer chocolate salted caramel cake for your birthday, and holy smokes is it filling! I ate a piece 45 minutes ago, and I still feel sickly full. While we were sitting around and enjoying your cake, Eliza asked if she could pull a 7th chair up to the table for you. She put it right next to her. :) Tonight we'll do our balloon tradition as always. Dad just went to pick them up, and half of them had no helium by the time he got home! Looks like I'll be making a run back to Publix.
I miss you, Samuel. 11. I wonder how you would have wanted to spend today. All your siblings celebrated their birthdays in these socially distant pandemic days. I wonder if you would have wanted a drive-by parade like Eliza, Joel, and Anna, or if you would have said "I do NOT want a parade" like Caleb. Would you have wanted a Culver's picnic? A family movie night? To throw a football in the backyard or play Spike Ball? Just a day that was totally unscheduled for you to choose at a whim what to do? I can't wait to get to know you, Samuel. To know your likes and dislikes, to discover if you're a cuddler like Joel or if you like your space, to learn if you're a creator like Anna, a reader like Caleb, an independent play-er like Eliza, a give-me-all-the-people-all-the-time and anything sports-er like Joel, or something entirely different from your siblings. Sweet Anna told me at the beginning of the pandemic that she started talking to you at night. At first she would ask God to tell you things, but then she decided she could just tell you herself, and she said she got to know you, and that you're pretty much the perfect brother: you would be ready to play with Joel whenever he asks, but you would always have time for her and Eliza, and you would be happy to give Caleb space to read but willing to talk Star Wars at any time. According to Anna you would be great at problem solving and helping your siblings come to a peaceful resolution when they argue. I loved hearing her imagination of who you would be. I guess we all look forward to knowing you in Heaven. What sweetness is ahead!
Samuel, I love you. Our month with you was holy and beautiful, and we learned so much in those 31 days and the months that followed. I think back on those lessons now, and I hold fast to them. I just finished reading The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom to your brothers, and one line in there struck me profoundly and made me think of our time with you: "There are no 'ifs' in God's world. And no places that are safer than other places. The center of His will is our only safety." When you were born so sick, I very purposefully turned the "ifs" off and chose to live each day we were given. There was no way to turn back time and change anything. The story God was writing was His story, and the center of His will was perfect safety -- not the safety of "nothing bad will happen" but the safety of living peacefully in Him and trusting Him to be good even if He didn't answer our prayers exactly as we asked of Him. And there was great peace and even joy in living that way. I lean into that truth now as the world is topsy-turvy and people around me are filled with angst. As school starts soon and exposure will go way up and as unkind words fly across the internet. As the sea roils around me with swells and dips of turmoil and crises and fear, underneath it all I am anchored in the unfailing truth of Jesus, in His peace that passes understanding and His love that cannot be lost. He holds the world and all its brokenness and heartbreak and anxiety in His loving, capable hands. And now, as then, He is trustworthy and good. The world is full of bad, but He is always good. You helped teach me that. You taught me so much, and I will always be grateful for you.
Happy Birthday, Sunshine. I love you, Samuel. And I always will. Someday we'll celebrate August 1st together. I can't wait for you to show me what you love and take me to all your favorite places. I can't wait to throw my arms around you and squeeze you tight and tell you 100 times in an hour that I love you so much. No matter how old you are in Heaven, I hope you'll hold my hand, and together we'll laugh and smile our way through this day. I'm SO GLAD God made you and trusted you to us. You and your brothers and sisters are our greatest gifts.
I love you forever.
Love, Mom
