It seems like the only thing I ever write about on here anymore is Eveyn. I would like to write about my other children more often. I do love them dearly and want to be better at chronicling their lives and the things they teach me every day. But unfortunately, today is not that day. Today I am writing about Eveyn again. I think it's just those really tough things about life that are easier for me to write about, rather than the every day things. I may regret that someday. But I also feel drawn to write about her and say her name often because infant death and miscarriages still seem to be a taboo subject to talk about in every day life. But this is the every day life of so, so many families so there is no reason it should be shied away from or kept private. So, here I write. About Eveyn, about grief, about life...
I have prayed and prayed for the last (almost) nine years to have a dream with Eveyn. I have always figured that this is my best possible place to be close to her on this side of eternity. This dream of dreams has never come. God has never given this to me. I did not realize how bad I wanted it until several months ago when Gavin woke up and told me he had just awoken from vivid dream of Eveyn. I immediately started to cry and felt jealous, indignant, and angry. I should be happy for him. After all, Eveyn is his daughter as well. He still grieves for her. He still loves her just as much as I do. I was glad for him, but I wasn't. I wanted that dream, that time with her. And I still do.
But I have found through these last nine years that God acts in his own time. He allows things to take place along this journey in the time that he knows is best for me. I may want things to happen yesterday, but he knows I can't handle it until a lot longer timeframe than I think is normal, appropriate, helpful, kind, or sane. But, he proves his wisdom, kindness and grace to me over and over, and over again.
At times, when I think about Eveyn, I do get a particular "vision" of her. Whether it's from God, my own head, pieces of things I've seen before, I don't know and I don't really care. It is a symbol of her spirit and soul and the fully healed body that I will one day see. She is not a baby anymore. She is lovely, tall, full of light, life and love. Walking in the most perfect of perfect days, with the greenest of grasses, the brightest of bright colors and light around her. I can hear her laugh. It is a vision. But I only see her from behind, barely catch glimpses of the side of her face before the wind moves her long hair to cover her. I can never see her face.
I may never have this dream of my girl that I so long for, and that's ok. Whether it's in a dream, or in the reality of eternity, I know my day will come.
Oh to see your face
To catch just a glimpse
To see your eyes, their color and sparkle
To know every spot and freckle like they are my own
Your hair is long and brown
Your laughter is warm and light
Your movements are joyful and pure
But oh to see your face
To press my forehead against yours
To smell your breath as we laugh face to face
To see the shape of your teeth and the form of your smile
Oh to see your face
Your legs float with ease and strength
Your arms full of freedom and grace
You bounce and twirl on the tips of your toes
Your feet carry you joyfully on your way again...
Some day I will see your face
And I will kiss your nose
And touch your cheeks
And feel your forehead against mine.
But until then, I will wait and I will dream
But oh to see your face
