December morning

To everyone who sent us cards, or who contributed to Samaritan's Purse, thank you. And to everyone who prays for us, a huge thank you. Someone wrote to me that every night they and their three year old pray for our family, and it made me cry.

Overall, we are plodding along, our grief an ember that gets fanned, as we see things that remind us of Paige, or find ourselves in a situation that she would enjoy - like today's snowstorm. She was a big fan of throwing snowballs at Grandpa M, and I know that she would want to be outside today.

The service was beautiful, and seeing those who came for us and for Paige was a pretty amazing experience.

When I feel really sad, I remind myself that if I just wait around long enough, I'll see her again. 60 more years, based on my family's blasted genes, and I wonder things like, Did she arrive in heaven a 2 1/2 year old? Will she be little when I see her, or will she be a grown-up? I'm banking on the former. I think her days in heaven are filled with playing, and with welcoming new babies and children, and helping them feel loved and at home. There's no one better for the job.