Grief is a funny thing. Its crazy how it can just come and hit you out of nowhere. My first son's birthday was in September. He would have been five years old. He would have been in pre-k. I wonder, would he have liked trains and trucks? Would he have played tee-ball? Would his hair still be black or would it have turned lighter like his sister's? I wonder how he and his new little brother would be getting along? All of these things I wonder. I can't help it. His death wasn't just the death of an infant, it was the death of a childhood; an entire life. It leaves a million 'I wonders' and 'imagine what could have beens.' It will never get better for me. It just gets a little easier. I have hope and that gives me peace and joy, even though it doesn't offer any comfort. I can do without comfort. I just thank God that I was able to hold him. I thank God that I earned a new appreciation for life and I realize just what a blessing children are. Being part of His creativity was God's intention for humankind all along and I do not want to take that for granted in any area of my life, be it my children, my marriage or my ministry. Funny thing grief is; how much it can teach us.

My daughter started playing soccer. Her team is called the Rapids. The league is ages six through eight. What a huge difference in size between a six-year-old and an eight-year-old! The team they played today was predominantly six-year-olds and her team is on the opposite end of the age range. My they looked like giants! They won by a significant margin, and I found myself cheering for the little kids on the other team when they scored their two goals. I just love watching young children play organized sports. Its hilarious because organization of any sort is not a skill well mastered by a child. Now put a group of children together and watch them try to organize themselves into a team. Its wonderful to watch. My daughter is having a lot of fun out there, and hopefully she'll learn a few things about working together with others. That's whats important, win or lose.

So, Halloween is coming up. The baby is going to be a pirate. We bought his costume at Burlington's. Its too cute! My daughter, on the other hand, is going to be a...a...well...I don't actually know. She has black feathered wings and a witch hat with black feathers. My Grandma bought it for her last time we visited her. So, I'm not sure what she'll be. I thought she could be a raven maybe, and instead of saying trick or treat she could say nevermore. She didn't understand that, and only about half of the door-answerers would. Then I thought she could sing outside after it got dark. Then she'd be a black bird singing in the dead of night. Not too many would get that either. Then I thought she could be a hoopoe. Nobody would get that, (by the way, a million points if you understand that.) Who knows? She suggested that she could be a black angel. I'm not sure she understands the implications of that suggestion. I suppose she'll be a little girl with a witch hat and black wings. I'm sure she'll still collect plenty of candy. She'll still have a good time and that's what is important.

I can not believe it. The baby is nine months old! My, it goes fast. I was thinking about the day he arrived last night. It seems like yesterday in a lot of ways. It was an exciting day. I remember I was in denial that I was in labor for hours. I woke up at one in the morning with contractions and, for some reason, thought that if I did laundry that they would stop. Two loads washed and dried later, I was still contracting regularly. Maybe a hot bath. Thirty minutes later and still contracting. I already had it all planned in my mind how the labor and birth would go and this was not it. It was two weeks early! Finally around four I packed our things for the hospital. I woke my husband and told him I was in labor and that he should get up. He said okay and went back to sleep. At six-thirty the pain was getting intense so I woke him up again, this time with a more serious tone. We left for the hospital at seven and arrived at the ER before eight. Its funny, (now), because the whole time we were driving to the hospital my husband was calling everyone while I was screaming. When we arrived at the ER the girl behind the counter asked me to indicate my level of pain according to a smiley face chart. Seriously?! When they wheeled me up to labor and delivery I was begging for some pain relief. It was not to be. I was dilated to seven and less than an hour later the baby was born. When the nurse told me it was too late for any pain relief I actually went through the five stages of grief! I denied, bargained, became angry and depressed before accepting that I would have to push this baby out sans any help. He was born pink and perfect, my little boy. When I saw that he was okay and heard him cry the pain I had experienced became a non-issue. Then they handed me my newborn son. Life just doesn't get any better than that and I was finally experiencing that again.

When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a child, she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has been born into the world. John 16.21, NAB

I've just finished reading the Aeneid of Virgil, (its great; I highly reccomend it.) Its about the Trojans driven by fate to Latium, in order to found Rome. It is very fast paced reading, especially the second half or so. Its a wonderful poem. It was Virgil's life long ambition to write the poem and he died while researching places in Greece that he wished to include in Aenea's wonderings. On his deathbed he willed that the unfinished manuscripts be burned! It was overuled by Augustus, thankfully. Its crazy to think that this great poem was nearly destroyed. I wonder how many great works were destroyed or lost to time? Think about Alexandria. Its tragic. I encourage anyone to read this poem with its near loss in mind. Happy reading!

Have you ever run into a friend from high school and thought, 'man, she looks old.' Then, you realize that you are the exact same age and look just as old! Life is funny like that. Sometimes its hard to see yourself the way you really are. If I really examine my life, though, the years are quickly passing by. My daughter is in the third grade! It sounds unreal. Its like she was born yesterday. In this time again she will be 16! I think I can wait for that time. The holidays and the new year are soon approaching and shortly thereafter the baby will be a year old. I am still trying, but as of yet, I have been unsuccessful in slowing the days. The days continue to just run into one another. Seriously though, its okay. The days are not important to me, its the moments that count. My daughter was chosen to compete in the UIL competition for spelling and creative writing. She was glowing with excitement and pride when she told me after school. I'm saving that moment. When the baby first crawled he turned around and smiled at me. I'm keeping that one too. Life is good like that.