As we enter into the third anniversary week of Hannah’s passing, I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed. (I use the word anniversary lightly, as the English language does not provide a better term for the yearly date of your loved one’s passing into Heaven.). April and May used to be happy times of the year. Spring renewal is in full swing, schools are preparing to release students for summer fun, flowers are beautifully blooming and our annual, family vacation is drawing near. Instead, there are two empty chairs at our table. These inanimate objects seem lifelike, screaming, “Where are our owners?!” As David and I embark on this time of heavy remembrance, please pray for us. (Pray for our adopted daughter, too, but for wholeness and deliverance.) David and I will, rarely, express our emotions in public. Our tears and pain are private. They bombard our inner beings from the second after we awake to reality, until the moment our minds give way to sleep at night. We stay grounded in the daily reading of God’s Word. Prayer seems like full on conversations with Jesus, all day long. Sometimes we ache for the Holy Spirit’s comfort and solace. Life is certainly different from anything we had envisioned. What does our future hold? I must admit I have no clue. We awake each morning looking for just what God wants us to do today. Our only long term plans are to attend award events in Hannah’s honor and spend some time with extended family. I look forward to the day when we can plan another, summer, family vacation. But for this day, it is the beginning of vivid remembrance of a fateful week, three years ago. “God, please tell Dad and Hannah, we love them.”💙🫂
