New Month, New Life

The month has finally arrived. November.

Last year, I felt it's bitter sting. The month of my mother's birth would not be celebrated with her here, on earth. No special celebration in heaven, I know, because every day in heaven is a reason to celebrate.

As my heart felt it could take no more pain--the loss of Daddy, the loss of Mother, the loss of J--God held a secret. A special surprise He would not share until the day we celebrate the resurrection of His Son.

On that day, my daughter shared with me the secret she and God now knew. Life had formed inside her. Miracle of miracles, because it was not supposed to happen. A true opening of the barren womb.

The baby was due, she estimated, in November.

This morning dawned and with it the realization that the month had arrived. For the life of me, even as I anticipate my "little man's" arrival, I cannot help but mourn those who will not or cannot be a part of it. I know some will say, "Oh, they'll be there ..." and in our hearts, I know that's true. But I grieve, still, that I will not, on this earth and in this time, see my parents hold their grandson. I think I fully understand now how my mother felt, knowing she would never see her mother hold my brother or me.

Such loss in this life. Such gain. No matter the tragedies that befall us, life really does go on.

Being of Gaelic descent, I find myself drawn to the music. I tuned Pandora Radio to my preset station of Capercaillie and, a few songs in, heard one of my favorite tunes. I am always reminded of "J" when it plays. I share it with you now and, soon--very soon--I will share photos of "my Isaac," who I have so named (even though his parents have already named him by another name) because he is God's gift to me, and he will restore my laughter.