Till We Are Home

One thing that any parent who loses a child struggles with is the new math. How many children do you have? A common question that has many variations, but the gist is the same. And the struggle comes – do I say three or two? Are we a family of five or four? Who is this person, and will there be a future situation that will make things awkward however I answer? Mental gymnastics plays on in the mind in a flash until you blurt something out.

The last few weeks there have been similar situations arising. I’ve spoken about my two oldest kiddos quite a bit whether in answering questions to friends as we catch up or telling others what we did over the Christmas break. And every time I share about my two oldest, I not only respond to their question, but think in my head, “yeah, but I also have a third kiddo.”

She would be turning 17 next month, thinking about possibly going to school after graduating, probably working a part-time job, and likely enjoying her friends and the youth group. It’s startling to me still to not include her in my responses. To not tell others that she’s in her junior year of high school when I speak of my older two’s experience with college. To not let others know if she likes her part-time job while telling them about my other two’s jobs. To not speak of her future dreams while sharing about my older two.

And it’s making me miss her so very much. 

I have three children, not two. The Lord blessed us with three sweet babies who grew up to be precious kiddos who entered their teenage years.

I have three children, not two. Three kiddos that still inhabit my daily prayers. 

I have three children, not two. Three children who all have a piece of their daddy’s heart.

There are things in our life that get easier over time. We grow through life’s changes. Calamities come and the Lord heals and blesses. But, I sincerely think there are some things in our life that we may never truly get over. And I don’t think I’ll ever get over the question or talking about my children without wanting so desperately to talk about Isabel.

So, if you ever ask me how my kiddos are doing, maybe sometimes ask me how I’m doing about Isabel. If you know someone who has lost a kiddo, give them a chance to tell you about their son or daughter. They don’t like the new math either and would love to have a chance to speak their child’s name to you, even if it was just to hear their name out loud again.

I know I love when Isabel comes up in conversation, and I think I always will…

Till we are home…