Truly born July 9, 2007
It’s been 5 years since you left this life. I miss you. I still dream about you sometimes.
My one regret is that I don’t think I ever shared my creative writing with you. I could use your insights now. You always had a way of helping me see past my own bs, to get right to the heart of the matter and help me know if I was on track or what I needed to change.
You taught me how to properly fill that God-shaped hole in my life, and I’m forever grateful for that. You taught me how to be a lady (I take full responsibility for any failings in that area). 🙂 And you tried to teach me how to approach life with zest. Alas, I’m sometimes too cautious and practical for my own good.
I’ve followed your footsteps in many ways. I am creative. I’m an overachiever. I don’t keep a great house, but it’s passable. Okay, that last one you’d probably prefer I not mention. When I think about it, I still haven’t accepted that it is what it is. When I don’t think about it—and I usually don’t—it just is what it is.
I love that you got to attend my wedding, that you could see (and let me know) how happy I am even before I did. That moment in your last trip to the ER—when we caught a glimpse of the real you, and you welcomed my husband—is indelibly etched in my memory as a sign from God.
I admit, sometimes I see the chair. It makes my burden seem heavy. In the beginning, I wondered if I’d settled—if I should have held out for someone who was the “whole package”. But I never thought I was cut out for the “soccer mom” life, anyway. Then he smiles and tells me I’m beautiful and how much he loves me (all of which he does many times a day) and I feel ashamed for ever doubting. He’s exactly what I need.
It’s been tough finding my way. I’m my own worst critic, and I seem to have a knack for making things harder than they should be. Thankfully, he’s my biggest fan.
If I could ask you one question now, it would be how you managed to learn the secret of Phil 4:11,12. I know you’d say it’s verse 13. But how do I turn that from head knowledge into a way of life? You weren’t just content, you were joyful in everything. I want that.
You were a tree of life, bearing the fruits of the Spirit in bold, beautiful colors, and you filled our lives with music that still lives on. A true testament to God’s grace and beauty.
I’m blessed beyond measure that He chose you to give me life.
Fictional Boundaries 