Conversations

One minute he is breathing, the next he is not.  One minute he is standing in my kitchen, the next he is gone.  One minute I am married, the next I am neither married nor single.  Surreal.  A year and a half later and I continue to fall in and out of disbelief.  I read a devotional this morning of a widow who cried out in her loss 15 years after the death of her spouse.  She wrote about her loneliness and how the triggers of grief continue to occur at unexpected times.  Only God can meet her in that place.

Madelynn climbed on the kitchen counter this morning to have a conversation with our pet fish.  She caught my attention when I heard her squealing, “Hi! Hi! Hi!” with each decibel of sound increasing to make sure the fish could hear her.  With the increasing volume in her morning greeting, I heard Shawn’s voice answer my daughter, an imagined type of sound, “Hey, little girl, what are you doing?  I don’t think it is a good idea to be on top of the counter.  You like that fish, huh?  Is he talking to you?  I think he likes you.  Come to daddy.”

I wish I could give you a conversation with your dad, Madelynn; one encounter to grab hold of and cherish.  I wish you could squeal, “Hi! Hi! Hi!” upon seeing his face.  And I wish he could smile back with, “Hey, little girl.” 

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