I think of you all the time, especially when I look up at the sky. Not that I believe you are "up there" somewhere, it's just that the sky has a vastness and unknowing about it that reflects the wonder and unknowing of where the soul resides. Looking into the sky allows me to imagine. I look up and I imagine you. And I cry. And I hope. And I smile.
I talk to you all the time, although I have no idea if anyone "hears" in the great beyond. I miss you deeply, in a way that only a mother could miss her child. And the farther out we get from January 5, 2014, the more I feel pulled toward you. People move on, they have their own lives and stresses and losses, and that's only natural. But I miss talking about you. I miss hearing your name. I'm afraid people are forgetting you, so I hold on that much tighter to you and your memory.
When you were here with us, your birthdays were always so bittersweet. I was grateful for another year with you and all the good you brought to our lives. You truly were such an instrument of peace and grace and love. But there was always a bit of sadness when I would think about how a healthy Jack would be celebrating his birthday. Today, when I imagine celebrating your birthday, I only imagine life with YOU, the Jack that God gifted to us. Although, if I'm honest, with your brother in college now, I do have those moments of wondering what it would be like if you and Eric were in college together. I think your brother would have really enjoyed having a big brother to do things with. I suppose we all wish for things we never get. I wonder what you wished for when you were here?
While today is your birthday here on earth, I don't imagine you celebrating your birthday wherever you are now. Because time doesn't exist in infinity. Birthdays are earthly celebrations of remembrance. My faith tells me that your true "birthday" was January 5, 2014. Your first day of forever. My biggest wish for today and every day since you died is that one day I will get to see you again - whatever that "seeing" looks like. I survive on that hope.
So today we remember and celebrate your earthly birthday and the fifteen years we had with you. Your life was a gift. I love you, I miss you, I'll "see" you again my sweet Jack.