I miss...

I miss the mundane.  Diaper changes.  Poopscapades.  Wrestling the alligator that is a toddler boy with wild legs and ants in his pants.  I miss the tickling that I would do to prevent the fussing.  I miss grabbing his chunky thighs.  I miss his messy hair.  I even miss his fussing.  I miss his stinky feet.  I miss toddler stank after a day full of playing.  I miss his chaos and his noise.  I miss his messes.  I miss his naked butt running through the house after a bath.  I miss his fingers and his toes.  I miss the slight curve of his lips just before that great smile.  I miss his little button nose.  I miss his dirty little neck that I wiped down hundreds of times after a messy meal.  I miss how ticklish he was.  I miss the completely individual way we loved each other in action.  I miss rubbing his back to settle his soul.  I miss his drool on my shoulder and that little pointing finger asking for me to walk him up to bed.  I miss his kind of ornery.  I miss that perfect little run and his stout little toddler body.  I miss him denying me kisses until his sisters cover me in kisses and then he relents.  I miss how he offered me his cheeks for kisses and giggled when I would demand a kiss from his lips.  I miss his grins, he had so many of them.  I miss his love for food and the way he expressed his delight over it.  I miss the way he rubbed his feet together.  I miss him kneading them into my body even though it hurt.  I miss his deep breathing, the hard thump of his heart that felt so familiar to his Daddy’s.  I miss his games.  I miss the slow pat and rub of his hand on my shoulder.  I miss the way he expressed the depth of love in his heart without hesitation.  I miss his little polite demeanor.  I miss him signing ‘sorry’, ‘please’ and ‘more’.  I miss his, “No fanks”, “Peas!”, and “Shoes!”  I miss “Duys! Look!”, “Mulk!”, and the mumble of “peanut butter” with only the consonants.  I miss his complete love for togetherness.  I miss his warmth.  I miss the genuine delight he brought to each and every person in our home.  I miss the sweetness of laying a hundred kisses on that soft place between his cheek and his eye and the way he slowed down just to soak them in.  I miss the little mumble I would hear after I said, “I love you.”  I miss his fits.  I miss the way he dropped his head and lifted his eyes when he was in trouble.  I miss finding him after nap time in the vastness of his destruction of his bedroom.  I miss his round little belly and the way his hips reminded me of his Daddy’s frame.  I miss wooing him with a calm heart and gentle hands until his little eyes with those gigantic eyelashes would begin to droop.  I miss his laughter.  I miss the belly laughter sweeter than the music.  I miss his shouts, “Din!”, as he delighted in wrestling or tickling or being thrown in the air.  I miss the tightening of his legs around my waist when he was afraid.  I miss the sound of his breath in my ear when I held him close.  I miss the way he loved to plop down in my lap at any given moment.  I miss the look he’d give me when he felt the stubble on my legs, so offended by the irritation.  I miss his exploration.  I miss the tender way he related to each of his siblings.  I miss all of his smiles, there were so many kinds.  I miss his booty in the air at bedtime and his attempt at potty training.  I miss his little tan body in the summer time.  I miss the way he always covered his head with blankets when he slept.  I even miss the bedtime battles for sleep.  I miss rocking him and him pleading for ‘stowey’.  I miss how he loved to be center of attention during bedtime routine.  I miss his attempt to sing our bedtime songs.  I miss his delight.  I miss those beautiful little white toddler teeth.  I miss the sparkle in his eyes and the softness of his skin.  I miss his nuzzle in my neck and the way he adored his Poppa.  I miss the way he sang ‘Jesus Loves Me’, ‘the cleanup song’, and ‘Hey! Ho! Let’s Go!’  I miss his love for swinging.  I miss his internal giggle, the bit of delight he’d share with a chuckle.  I miss running my fingers through his hair, nothing compares to the softness of it.  I miss clipping his finger nails.  I miss his love for bubble baths.  I miss his squeals of delight.  I miss the crazy way he created laughter and jokes sometimes without words.  I miss his love for water, humbling as that is.  I miss the weight of him in my arms.  I miss him pleading at my feet in the kitchen.  I miss his wreckless way of helping with the dishes.  I miss the way he settled in to read books.  I miss his snorting wrestles with his Daddy.  I miss his interjections with that high-pitched toddler voice when a massive wrestle would break out.  I miss the way he growled his Daddy’s name every time he was being super ornery.  I miss the way he used his hands, perfectly unique.  I miss the massive size of his hands and feet for his age and just the way they fit in my hand.  I miss his love for holding my hand.  I miss his silly antics, making light when things get a little too crazy.  I miss his joy.  All of me misses all of him, every day, all of the time.  While I sleep and when I am awake, it never ceases.  I am learning to live in the great weight of his absence but it’s fragile, messy, awkward, and strange.  Haddon is worthy of every ounce of anguish I carry.  This short little list doesn’t touch the goodness of the gift of him.  I am ever thankful yet full of longing.  One sweet day, these longings will be quenched.  Until then, I’ll wait, I’ll weep, I’ll plead and pray.  Until then, I’ll be dependent on the One who gave me such a tender and beautiful gift.  The wonder of Haddy is evidence of His goodness, His kindness, and His marvelous love for me.