Mourning 3 is a tricky business. They are all so different. Sometimes I feel the loss of the quantity, like when we have 7 around the table, but it’s the “wrong 7” (note: Katie has been living with us for over a year and a half. Didn’t want the number 7 to be confusing). Or when I sit between Josh and Sam and feel the smallness of my whole family being one on either side of me. Some days I spend more time thinking about Kaitlyn or Zach.
But tonight as I stretch and get ready to crawl into bed I miss Scott as my champion and encourager. I miss having him near knowing he always wanted what was best for me. It helped me choose well knowing he was there, caring that I was thriving. I miss seeing in his eyes that he was proud of me and so very for me.
His presence. I suppose what I miss is his presence. The whole thing. The physical touch. The emotions. The twinkle in his eyes. The mischief. The serious. Hearing him pray. The sound of coffee grinding in the morning and trying not to be irritated that I could hear it. The way he took such good care of the physical things he’d been entrusted with. How hard he worked. His commitment to finishing things. His laugh, do we have to that recorded somewhere? His love for me. Being us. We were at good us.