Letters

Oftentimes I feel like I want to write and then I just don't make the time to do it. This week has been one of those weeks. Numerous things have happened that I have felt I should write about.

A week ago my sweet friend and neighbor Michele's sister passed away. She was only 37 years old. It was sudden. There was no illness or accident. She played with her family during the day and that evening told her husband she hurt and then was gone.

I am blessed to know Michele and her parents. I have met this sister a time or two. However, this loss has just shaken me. I really didn't know Natalie. Yet I know that Natalie has left behind a husband and three very young children. The youngest is only two.

My heart just aches for these little children. Will they ever truly know how much their Momma loved them? Will they always wonder what she felt about them?

A few years ago when Anne Peterson died I had many of the same feelings. Her family was so young. They knew she was going to die, however. I wonder if that made it so that she thought about saying those important things. I know that she made a point of having pictures with her children.

If I died tomorrow would my children know how I feel about them? Would they know that I would do anything to help them? Do they know that I love them more than life itself? Would they be able to find a picture of me with them? All the little stories that are locked inside my heart-are they written down anywhere? I have work to do.

If I am very honest I don't think that my children would really understand how I feel about them. I don't know that a child can understand that until they have children of their own. However, during this last week I have had the impression more than once that I need to write letters to my children. These are letters that I will not give them now. Hopefully, they are letters that they can all have when I am old, old. I am going to start writing my children letters and putting them into a special box. I hope that they don't ever have to grow up without me, but if they do, I want them to be able to have a letter from me telling them what treasures they are to me.

As I write this I feel like maybe I should write them more letters that they can read now. The problem that I have with this is that often my children look at me like I have lost my mind when I talk about emotions and feelings. They also react to me telling them what I feel is important by saying I am preaching to them.

Not quite sure what or how, but I know that I must write down these feelings for my children. I know that I would love to have one letter from my Dad that told me how he felt about me.

For now I get another day with my children and husband. Every single day needs to be treated as a blessing. These people in my life need to know that I feel that THEY are MY BLESSINGS.