Tuesday, February 14, 2012

"Chin up, Wilber..."

I had to pick my oldest son up from school today because he was sick.  On the way home, we stopped at the cemetery to place a Valentine balloon on Matthew's grave site.  We cleaned up, as we usually do,making it look as best it can and spent just a few minutes reflecting on life / death and how it seems more natural for the older people to pass away before the younger ones. The simplicity of that seems so easy to comprehend, yet we all know, that I wouldn't have been visiting our son's grave site if that were true.  And neither would you be visiting the sacred ground where your sweet child was laid to rest either.

On the ride home, he said with tears in his eyes, "Mom, I cry sometimes when I think of Matthew, or when I hear someone talk about your book."  Of course, I affirmed to him that is okay and that I do too.  He said "I would give anything to play with him one time."  (Mama tears... big mama tears)  Me too...

After a few tears and his head hanging down, I said "Chin up Wilber..."  He said "Why does that story have such a sad ending?" He continued, "It's like Matthew, when he left us." 

I said, "Nathan,  Charlotte was sent to leave Wilber with a message and inspiration, and she left when her work was done... and in life, people may have to leave us, but when they do, what they leave with us is amazing.  Matthew left with us his beautiful legacy and taught us so much.  Sure, we wish he were here, but we are also so grateful we had him, if even for a short while... and we are even more grateful for the message of hope he left us with."  He looked at me and smiled with those big brown eyes, still teary, and said "He did leave us a wonderful message!"

Today,  if you find yourself looking around for hope and encouragement and the will to go on... remember if your chin is up, you will probably find just what you are looking for!

From my heart to yours....



  1. beautifully said. Thank you for sharing this story. It sounds so similar to the conversations that happen in our car, here and there, or as we leave Jack's grave site. So glad to know that there really are others that carry a deep pain like this and choose to see Christ in it. thank you, Lori. so much.

  2. Laurie- your comment speaks volumes and I believe it is so important... conversations need to happen! In the car, at the park, at bedtime or whenever and wherever your child or you want to talk about life after loss. They are fragile moments that remind us just how much we have to cling to the hope we have in Christ! Love, Lori