Insomnia

My husband just poked his head out of our bedroom door to inform me I'm going to be wasted tomorrow. He's right. I've stayed up way later than I should. But I know the sooner I go to sleep, the sooner I have to attend the funeral of a mom not much older than me who died last week.

And I don't want to accept the reality of that fact. So I've stayed awake, trying to will her impending memorial service away, trying to remember more of her from the two or three conversations we ever had. I think we would have been good friends, but her health was poor enough that I didn't see much of her during our Mothers of Preschoolers meetings. I met her mother before I met her, and we chatted about her daughter during our Bible study times - Beth Moore studies tend to do this to women: make them examine their relationships at length.

I feel honestly like I have no right to feel any grief over her unexpected passing, but it cuts me to the quick to think that her baby - similar in age to Rhys - may not be able to remember much of her when she grows up. One of my greatest fears is that I will die before my babies reach an age that will ensure they remember me as their mother - not from pictures or reminders, but from their own hearts and minds. What a sobering reminder of my mortality that this mom is now gone physically from her children's lives. I've been thinking about her all day, and I take some comfort in knowing that she poured as much love as she could into her children - and that check will not come back void.