In a drawer in my room lies my most prized possession. It rests there, sheltered and protected. My husband took it to a friend to have it prepared to display and I could hang it up . . . display it . . . share it. But it sits in a drawer, partly because I don’t have an appropriate rod and partly because I am afraid of what might happen to it.
In my lap is a little boy, just 19 months old. In two months, he will be as old as Tiggy was when he died. My chest tightens. It is hard to breathe. When I look at him, I see so many of the things my little Mattias was learning and doing and I remember how he used to give up the swing for the baby, sit next to me on the couch to pet the baby’s head and drop everything to sit down and hold the baby any time I said he could. I remember how he loved his baby brother.
I want so much for little Micah to know his big brother. To share those special moments when they seem to have their own language that overcomes Micah’s small vocabulary. To fight over toys and space and the number of times Micah knocks over a tower of blocks because he doesn’t know how else to get his brother’s attention. And my heart aches.
But Micah knows what is in that drawer, too. He knows it is something special. So when he has a chance, he goes in and opens the drawer. He takes out the treasure and opens the special pocket containing a little blue tractor. He points at the pictures and wants me to tell him what they are.
And sometimes it seems that my very soul is tearing in two, but that little smile and that little finger pointing and that little, “Eh?” hold it together just enough to allow me to smile while I share Tiggy’s stories with his little brother Micah through a blanket spread out on my bed.
I homeschool my children on a small hobby farm in rural Nebraska and write about life more abundantly, from the joy of a baby's smile to the almost unbearable grief of losing a son while seeking beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair (Isaiah 61:3)
Dear Dana,
I cannot begin to imagine the anguish. But I am amazed at how the process of healing is revealed through your words. Over the months, the Lord has brought you so very far. And we continue to pray for you. Thank you for sharing your journey.
You haven’t posted something that has brought tears to my eyes like this in a while…gosh, and I was just thinking about you the other day!
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Tears Dana. A huge moment. Thank you for sharing. A post to sit in today. How proud his big brother would be of him. Love to you.
This post is beautiful. Even though Micah doesn’t know Tiggy, he will benefit from having him as an older brother.
Thank you, everyone. Micah is a special little guy.
And Tracey, I guess it is good that gardens and heifers aren’t as emotional as writing about Mattias.
What a beautiful way to keep memories alive.
what a wonderful prized possession for you all!!!!!!!
Oh, how merciful that we have a Great High Priest who has suffered in every way just as you have. Who makes it so that those who feared death can know it has no power- because He has conquered it. You are shining in a way that on one would choose but are being refined as though through fire to be pure and holy display of your Father’s love. May he make his love felt.
Beautiful Dana. Thanks for sharing, especially the pic of the memory quilt. It’s gorgeous and what a great way to share Tiggy’s memory with Micah. Hugs.
Dana, I am so sorry. I love that you can share about Tiggy, and that you let us see the beautiful memory quilt and blue tractor. I pray that the Lord will bring to to a healing place and that Micah will learn much about the love of Jesus as you share about Tiggy with him. Thank you for sharing this sweet story with my readers at ‘EOA’ Wednesday. Please come back and share every week. God bless you, dear friend.