One Small Sticker

Several years ago, Tim and I were behind a vehicle with a memorial sticker on the back window.  We commented how we didn't know if we could do that, as we'd be saddened by the constant reminder.  Never did I imagine that we'd be ordering decals of our own to remember our son, Austin, just two years ago.  In reality, with child loss, you need no reminder...the loss is ever-present.  The comfort by which this sticker brings though was and is unexpected.  When I'm driving and glance through my rear view mirror, the sticker is visible, with Austin's name shining back at me.  Seeing his name makes me feel as if a part of him is there.  Even though I already know that to be true.

Austin was always quick to call "shotgun" whenever we would drive anywhere.  As he grew older, his size nearly demanded it.  At only 14, he had already surpassed his dad and me in height.  With those broad shoulders and long legs, he seemed to hover over all of us - and he loved every minute of it.  Tim actually felt guilty when we'd ride together, somewhat forcing Austin to take the backseat.  Even though we both drive SUVs, the space in the back just couldn't comfortably contain our sprouting boy.

Being on the road is a difficult time when you're grieving.  I remember those first few months after he passed, and sobbing the entire way to work and back home.  Every single day.  It was lonely in the truck, and if anything, it felt the only time I could release all the sadness my heart would swell with each hour without him.  Even now, I find driving to be hard and I wish that my sweet boy would be sitting co-pilot beside me, lovingly reaching his arm around mine to hug me or singing to favorite songs with him on the radio.  And though I know his seat may be empty, I still feel his spirit with me regularly.  Each time I glance at his sticker, warmth passes over me as if I can hear him whisper, "I Love You, Mom."

Now, when I see other stickers, I will pause and pray for the passengers inside.  No matter the age or the time that has spanned since their passing, I know prayers are forever needed in families of child loss.  I ask God to bring them peace and to lift them up in warmth and love so that they may know and feel His presence.  Though strangers, we share a connection on the road in that moment, and I carry them in my thoughts throughout that day.

I also notice others reading Austin's memorial sticker when they are behind me in traffic.  I often wonder what goes through their minds.  Sometimes I can see the sadness in the eyes, in the realization of his age at his passing.  Sometimes I'll see a couple exchange glances in their vehicle after reading it, maybe thanking God for the blessings they have.  Sometimes I'll catch a parent reading it, then see them look in the backseat at their children and can almost feel their thankful prayer being sent up.  Perhaps it is a way to not only remember Austin but help others realize how precious and short this life is and how we should all make every moment count.  That's certainly something Austin would've wanted....to make a difference with one small sticker.

All these years...

Tim and I are home from a wonderfully romantic weekend at the lake.  Eighteen years ago, we honeymooned at Kentucky Lake and have been returning every few years or so.  We try to combine each trip with a mixture of old favorites and new finds.  More important than anything we do however, is just the planned one on one time we get to reconnect as a couple.

This year was our first to vacation at the lake as boat owners.  I remember the many trips we'd made before, lingering at the piers and wishing.  Our "lil piddly", as I deemed her this trip, may not be a regal or majestic vessel like what surrounded us, but she got us where we wanted to go.  Whether we were bird watching, fishing, or speeding down the waterway, we thoroughly enjoyed our hours in the boat this weekend.  The largest part of the time, Tim would fish, I would read, and we'd listen to old country songs in the background.  Our first night there the weather cooperated and we soaked in a sunset while rocking gently on the glistening lake, hand in hand.

No plans or itineraries were made for this mini getaway, which is not the norm for me, but I wanted to be free to do whatever, whenever.  We were intentionally lazy, napping midday, or when a thunderstorm soaked other plans. Diets were tossed out the window at our first stop to fuel up, as we binged on road trip goodies and mega fountain sodas.  A trip to the lake is not complete without a stop at the Liteside Cafe for a scrumptious muffin (or two), or a meal at Patti's, which usually includes their famous two inch pork chops.  We grilled at our cabin one night and enjoyed lots of time on the back deck overlooking the lake. 

I enjoyed reading there one morning, while Tim went on an early fishing outing.  At the beginning of the third book in the series, the author wrote a dedication to her husband.  I connected to her words and felt it was an accurate description for Tim and me.  "I could fill a thousand book with words of love and still not have shared but a small portion of who you are to me." -Cindy Woodsmall

I felt then it was a beautiful way to sum up our weekend, our marriage, and our life together.  All those years ago, as I stood before him and said "I do" I didn't think it possible to love him more.  Now, I know love grows with each passing day, as the life you make together just strengthens it.  Whether it be through the joyous times, or those of pain, each milestone, every moment and memory adds to your relationship.  But to truly describe all that Tim is to me...impossible.  There are no words, as what we have can only be shared through the heart.  What I can say is that this weekend was amazing and I am beyond blessed to share my life with such a man!