4 Years Old ~ A Glance Back

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Michael, two weeks before he passed away.

4 years ago I held my first born in my arms, marveling at his tiny size and awed that I was a mother. I didn’t even know how to be a mother, and yet here I was, holding precious life in my hands.

Today, as I look at his siblings, I am in awe that I’m a mother. I’m a mother who’s stronger, better, grown up more, and has a deeper understanding of the strength a parent is imbued with. All because a young boy came into my life briefly and left me with a purposeful view on parenting.

4 years of mourning, maturing against my will, laughing, learning to trust God more, hanging on to this ride called life. I go back and forth on what I think as I reflect this year. We’ve been blessed beyond measure these 4 years. It’s been a rough ride, riddled with dark moments and scary times. But also moments of such joy and bliss…no words could ever describe them. Though I’m sure if you’ve hung out long enough on this blog, you’ll have read my weak attempts as capturing those thoughts and moments.

As I sit here, looking at Michaels picture collage, I notice first that all of the pictures need better orientation. Then I look deeper. I remember, the sounds of his laughter, the sweetness of his smile, the pain of his colicy cry, the joy of ‘the fart’ in the tub. How having him made me grow up quickly, and how losing him made me grow older overnight. There’s one picture…he’s serious, and staring at me. It was taken about 2 weeks before he passed away. I wonder if he knew…I always have wondered. The seriousness in this picture seems wise, older than his almost 5 months of age.

I will always say that Mickey made me a better mother, both in his life, and in his death. Nothing I can do, will ever change that he was here and then left. From early on, I’ve always wanted to honor his memory, and be very intentional and wise with any children we had next.

J

Jeremiah, 15 months old

When Jeremiah came along, he was a sweet, calm, cheerful young man. The biggest baby, and healthiest, he came home with us when he was discharged. He was like a sweet balm to our wounded souls and hearts. His ready smiles, his need to be close to us, his joy in just being in our arms. God allowed us to heal with the sweetness and joy of our second son. We’d been a little nervous, that having another boy would be hard, but Jeremiah was night and day to Michael.

Molly

Molly, 7 months old

When Molly came, her young life mimicked Mickeys closely. I had to remind myself over and over again, that she wasn’t him. Sometimes, that worked. Though I loved her dearly, and had mama bear protectiveness of her, I held part of myself back. I was scared. I was angry. She was too much like Michael. It wasn’t fair. She is a refining fire {refining balm} in my life. She holds the darkest wounds still left unopened, to light. Though it is very painful at times, she too is a healing balm. She’s the type that hurts but you know is needed to heal. Walking down the darkest nights and deepest fears once more, but with a difference. As I fought going down the road He set my feet on…something inside of me whispered, “You must go through this, just as you went through his death.” Oh, I don’t want too! I’m happy to have moments of bliss and not remember that grief and pain. Really…I don’t want to remember that. But, friends, remember it I had too.

So…my children.
Michael, a gift for a time.
Jeremiah, a sweet balm and joyful, giving son.
Molly, a refining balm of fire, and sunshine to my darkness.

Becoming a mother has changed me in so many ways, and will continue too in the long run. But one things I’ve held onto: God is in control. He has a purpose for each breath of my life, and each person in it, including my children. They, along with my darling Mr. S, are here to rub the rough edges off. Though it hurts sometimes, I can see that I’m better for it. Indeed, I’m blessed by the rough rubbing, and dark moments…they lead to His glory in me.

Today, as we think about Michael and celebrate his influence in our lives, I ask that you pray for us still. And pray for those who have also lost a child, or grandchild. There are hearts that are still broken and full of pain, with wounds so deep that it will take massive prayers to help heal them fully.

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2 comments

  1. Oh Peggy (((hugs))) all the tears I have cried and still cry to this day for you Wayne and sweet Mickey ❤ Your son's passing changed me as a parent too and it is honestly something I probably think about too often. He was such a wonderful gift. And little Jeremiah and Molly are such wonderful little blessings ❤ I don't know where I'm going with this, just felt I needed to comment. Sending you much love and praying for you as always ❤

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