Somehow, I am Still Lucky

Dear Daniel,

           I don't get the chance to go out by myself as often as I used to. I am busy with your nephew, the horses, the dogs, the alpacas or something else at the farm most days.    This week, I got the chance to run and errand in Richmond, and it went fairly quickly, and so I had the time to make a couple of stops during the return trip.

           One of the stops I made was at an antique shop. There were a couple of things I knew they had that your sister would like, and so I bought them with a plan to put them away for her.  While I was there, I felt compelled to talk to the shop owner, a man who'd been there a long time.  I spoke about all of the kids, and the man actually had met your brother Adam and knew his work.   Then, I told him about you.  After nine years, I deal with the matter and your loss matter of factly when I relate the story. It's not that I don't feel it, and it's not that I am not, at times, sorrowful, but I have the faith I had the day of your departure, and I have the perspective that comes from nine years of contemplating that if God called you in such an unusual way, that he must have had purpose in an action that has touched so many other lives.  I told the man what had happened, and it brought him to tears.  I told him that it was alright, because God has you.  I thought you might like to know that people are shedding tears and missing you, and remembering their own losses from Earth, even nine and a half years after your departure.

            Most days I deal well with your being in Heaven while I complete my work with the rest of your family here on Earth.  Of course sometimes, I shed tears, or wonder what I could have done that God would see fit to call my youngest son home.  I don't think it's about me though. I think it's that you are so important, that you were needed at Home for some reason, and that I must accept this.
             My life has been so much richer as a result of your having been born to us, and have occupied the place of my youngest son.  I remember your presence on Earth as if it were yesterday. Sometimes, when I am deep in sleep, usually at four am, I feel you sitting with me. I am so proud of you, for so many reasons,
even now.

             I love you wider than the oceans and deeper than the seas,   always.