Moments with Morris: New Year, Same God

My sweet son,

Yesterday was the first day of the New Year. I know a lot of people were glad to see 2016 go, but for me it was bittersweet. Last year brought a lot of heartache and pain for sure, but it was my year of rainbows. Our 2016 started with a project in your memory, Operation Over the Rainbow, where we collected nearly 175 Journey Bags for children in foster care. Spring and summer storms lit up the sky with more double rainbows than I ever remember seeing in one year, and they were the brightest, most beautiful rainbows that I've ever laid eyes on. And then in August, we welcomed our own beautiful double rainbows and spent the remainder of the year enjoying every single moment with them.

I spent a few hours at Morris Park on New Year's Eve with family and friends. As much as I wanted to have your brother and sister spend their first New Year's Eve at Morris Park, I went alone. They are getting both over being sick, and I didn't want to bring them out in the cold. They stayed home with Daddy, B-Ball and G-Daddy. Papaw did a special ball drop at 7 PM so I could get back home and spend what was left of 2016 with my own precious family.

Like last year, Papaw rigged up a ball to drop in the park, and we had fun counting down to the new year. This year, the firetruck playset that Papaw built was lit up with red Christmas lights and flashing sirens on top. After the ball drop, the cold weather didn't hamper the kiddos' excitement to play for a few minutes on the playground. Papaw gave me a hug and reminded me that the ball drop was in your memory. We are so lucky to have Morris Park and all its memories.

Not long after I started my short drive home, it dawned on me that 2016 was the first full calendar year without you. Fellow loss friends will probably understand why that realization left me with tears streaming down my face. I can't explain why to those who haven't experienced a profound loss, but those who have know how sometimes the oddest of milestones can trigger your grief.

About half-way home, I passed a lighted church sign that read, "Your year may change, but God always remains the same", or something to that effect. For the rest of the drive home, I rejoiced in the fact that no matter what words you replace "your year" with that sentence remains true. "Your job", "your home”, “your health", "your bank account", "your marital status", "your number of living family members"....all these things may change in the new year, but God will remain the same loving, faithful, ever-powerful, all-knowing God that he has always been. And with that truth in my heart, I was able to dry my tears before I pulled into the garage to greet my precious family.

Happy New Year in Heaven baby boy. You will be missed as much this year as you were last year, but I'll continue to take comfort in knowing that you are lucky enough to be held by our never-changing God.

Love,

Mommy

Morris Park New Year's Eve Countdown