Life and Loss...and Life (a typical, yet long rambling of thoughts)

I am really not a pessimist, I promise.  Well, I try not to be one, how's that?!  I couldn't sleep last night.  It was about 1:30AM and I was tossing and turning and just could not get comfortable, so I got up to blog.  Of course, that would be the time that my internet decided to take a short hiatus and I had no connection.  Well, I got my laptop, played a few games, and turned something pointless on TV for background noise.  My mind was spinning with thoughts and I was having a mini pity party of sorts.  Yes, a bad habit of mine at times.

I started thinking about loss.  In the past 15 years I have experienced all different kinds of loss.  Some losses are too personal for me to delve into with just anyone and don't get discussed.  There was the loss of my parents' marriage, which ended in divorce after 35 years.  There was the loss of my mom.  The loss of my brother  in law.  The loss of my brother.  The loss of my aunt.  The loss of friends.  And, most recently the loss of my husband.  Each loss is different.  Each loss carries it's own grief.  Each loss is painful in it's own way.  Each loss takes time to heal from.  Most losses you never really get over - you just learn to readjust your sails and move forward - a process that truly is more like a maze that you often feel lost in.

Kids growing up... it can feel like another kind of loss and, sometimes, when your heart is fresh with the loss of a loved one, it seems even harder.

Kyle was my sweetie from the beginning.  Mark and I would joke that it was Kyle who brought us together - a funny family story involving quarters, video games, and miniature golf.  Kyle was my first little boy to call me "momma".  He melted my heart.  Like a mother bear, it was my goal to love and protect him - always.  He had been through a lot of hurts that no little boy should ever have to deal with, but he grew up and became a better person than I could ever imagine being - loving those who had hurt him and forgiving with a passion that I could only dream of having.   He has a heart for others.  He is the shining example of second chances and unconditional love.  He is my example more times than I care to admit.  He is and always will be "my boy".  But... I am not the cool mom.  I am not the mom who will sit and drink with him.  I am not the mom that hangs out with his friends.  I am not the mom who supports or endorses partying.  But - I am the mom who will always love him and pray for him and want him to do right and hope for the best for him.  I am the mom who can promise to always be on the sidelines, in the shadows, rooting for him.

Through the trials, the tears, the struggles, the losses, the pain, the Lord was gracious and merciful and blessed me with my littlest... My heart.  My little amazing angel who keeps me grounded, focused, and always on my toes.  My miracle baby, grown from the very depths of my heart into a reality that I never dreamed would be in my world.  My little boy whose laughter brings more joy than I dreamed my heart could hold...whose smile can light up an entire room.  Whose eyes I still get lost in at night when we "wockie" (when I rock him to sleep). Whose small hand pats my face and says, "Goo-boya, Momma" (good boy, momma).  Whose tip-toe run as he yells, "tagggg-tagggg" (tag-tag), brings about infectious giggles and smiles.  The little boy who has been a balm for my sad, lonely, weary, grieving heart.  My precious Gabriel.

My boys are my heart and after so many losses....I am grateful for life.

I am not really sure there is a point to this rambling except for maybe the need to get out my jumbled up thoughts about loss and life and....life in general.