I don't understand how some days I am so much stronger than others. The 13th of the month is quickly approaching and it will have been 6 months since I last heard her sweet voice. My husband and I both notice that images of her are slowly fading and we are left with the most vivid memories being those that were caught on videotape. I can't close my eyes and hear her voice as well. I have to turn on the video to refresh my mind and hear her call for her mama. I am thankful that at least we have that. My husband relayed that someone who claims to be a "video editing expert" once quipped, "Who would want to watch unedited video of their children?" Maybe just those that have lost someone dear. We could sit and soak up hours of her on the screen grateful that we didn't edit out a laugh or a whine or the way she would twirl in dress-up clothes. Yet a strange part of me hates the videos and the cedar chest in my room full of her clothes and favorite items. I hate them because it is all I have left of my baby girl.
So some days I wake and all day long she is on my mind and I think of how lovely it must be for her in heaven. I think of how I can't wait to be there with her. I think about how I can live my life to please the Lord just so that I will hold her in my arms again. Some days I think on these things. And some days I can only think of how I miss her so.