Grief is Sneaky

   In many ways, I carry grief with me every day kind of like a ring on my finger.  It is there but not glaringly obvious.  I feel it, I wear it, but it doesn't overpower me.
   There are times I have come to expect the weight of grief to threaten to crush me....birthdays, his heavenly anniversary, Christmas, Easter, first day of school, milestones the other kids reach, but some times grief is sneaky and tiptoes in on the heels of other events.
   Today, just Janey Kate and I were home.  She seemed to be a bit under the weather, and I was fighting a migraine so the rest of the family had gone to a farewell party without us.  Janey Kate had been hanging close and sitting with me and cuddling on my lap which is rare for her, but would have been normal for Knox.  She got up and tripped over my feet and went flying into the side table.  She usually shakes it right off, but it must have been quite a fall. I picked her up and held her close.  She wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck and put her head in my chest sobbing her little heart out.  I comforted her and found my tears running down my face and threatening to soak her hair.  I cried for her pain and  my own pain as I found myself thinking I'd love to have been  able to comfort Knox; wishing I had rescued him and had been able to have his arms around me and his head on my chest as I calmed him; wishing I could have said, "He is fine.  It just scared him."

    While it is hard to explain and difficult for me to grasp, I again experience  joy  in sorrow.  I am so  thankful for Janey Kate's little life (and does she ever embrace life!) and the joy she brings even when she sparks flashbacks and how the feel of her body leaning up against mine reminds me both of what I don't have and  the good memories of him climbing on my lap breaking from his play for a kiss and a hug.