The Date Stamp

In 2010 we had a cement patio poured just outside the garden gate.  I know it was 2010 because, like every good homeowner does, we scratched the date and all of our names into the wet cement.  I like the memory that date stamp brings to mind.  I am reminded of our newly blended family.  I think of the fun or making our new house “ours.”

I passed by the corner over the weekend and the date and those names stood out to me.  I have never been good at remember dates.  I was horrible at updating my boys’ baby books.  I did not mark the dates they took their first steps or said their first words.  I was just glad that they achieved those milestones.

When my oldest son was a little boy, I read an article written by Erma Bombeck.  In the article, Erma encouraged her readers to make each day count, use the good china.  I like to think that I have done just that over the years.  Of course, since August 26^th, 2014, that horrible awful dreadful day I learned of my son’s passing, I have made an even greater effort to take pleasure in each day I am given.  Yes, I get down in the pits of grief which make that difficult.  However, I love to stop and enjoy each sunrise, each sunset.  When I do this, I am reminded of God, my creator.

I was sharing these thoughts with a friend last week.  She said, “Each day is momentous!”  Yes, truly each day is momentous.  My loss has taken me on a journey I never saw coming.  I am learning a lot about myself.  Parts of me I never knew have been exposed.  Do I still forget dates? Yes.  Do I try to appreciate each day? Absolutely!