Wednesday, November 27, 2013

His 8 Year Old Hands

The other day Reagan slipped his hand into mine.

I was taken aback at how it fit.

It felt strange, almost foreign.

It felt larger than I remembered.  He is getting to the age where holding mom's hand just isn't as necessary as it was at one time.

Today (actually yesterday...I'm a bit slow on getting this written).... Reagan turned 8.

I can't believe my baby is eight.  I vividly remember being eight, so how can my youngest be this old.

Reagan is my sweet, funny little man.  I hope the world never knocks him down and changes him. He can make anyone laugh and always has a little grin on his face.  Last year his teacher gave him the 'funny man' award.  She told me that no matter how bad her day was, she could always count on Reagan to make her laugh.  I hope he never loses that ability.

This year Reagan played tackle football for the first year.  It was tough and after the first week he wanted to quit.  I almost let him, afraid that he might get hurt.  But he decided to tough it out and I'm so glad he did.  I've seen amazing changes and growth in him.

Happy 8th Birthday Reagan!

As a mom, each child's birthday brings back so many memories of that day.  My mind is flooded with happy thoughts of the first time I held my new baby.  

But other thoughts creep in.  Sad thoughts...I can't help but think if their dad remembers what day it is.  Does he ever think of them?  Would he even be able to tell you how old they are?  Or would he even recognize them if he ran into them? 

The kids and I don't talk about this.  Its never brought up or discussed.  They seem to be doing great, and I think most of the time they forget he even exists.  Which may sound unhealthy, but I believe is actually the best thing.  

My kids want a dad, not their dad they quickly clarify.   I tell them that God will provide one.  Either a dad or a substitute dad.  He gave me an amazing one to replace my lost dad, He will give them one as well.   

Its good Randy is gone.  Its good he is totally extinct from our lives.  His presence brought nothing but terror and the last year that he was around it was so sporadic that it was worse than just his disappearance. 

But still, the question will creep into my thoughts and linger for a moment...does he remember that his little boy turned 8 today?  And somehow the idea that he could truly wipe them out of his mind hurts.  
I'm going to post this.  And even thought its after midnight and I have a thousand things to do, including sleep, I'm going to snuggle my little 8 year old.  We are going to cuddle, talk, and maybe even eat a bowl of popcorn.  'Cuz not every birthday is the night before Thanksgiving break.  We might as well make the most of it.  

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