November 18th, 2018 marked 8 long months without my beautiful Noah. Emotionally and physically I hit a new low this last month. Most days I feel as though I have little or no hope. A strong, overcoming fear hits me when I realize that I have to live the rest of this life without Noah and I don’t know how I’m going to survive.
Every day for the last 8 months I have relived the traumatic experiences of the day I lost Noah. Although some joy peeks through in my day because of my daughter Abigail, I am still easily transported back to that day from hell. It can be in the silence of the afternoon when Abigail is sleeping, or it can be as loud as the laughter I hear coming in from outside when the neighbourhood children are playing and I am reminded of a huge gaping hole in my life. Noah is missing and there is nothing in this world I can do to bring him back. I will never again feel the touch of his hand in mine, his big hugs, or the sound of his beautiful voice.
The pain is almost unbearable. My aching heart can’t seem to take anymore. It longs to go back in time and change the outcome of this story. It cries out for Jesus to come back and make things right. I weep so hard and long it hurts. These empty arms ache and long to hold little boy named Noah.
As I sit and dream about my heavenly reunion with Noah the following hymn always comes to mind:
When We All Get to Heaven
Sing the wonderous love of Jesus,
Sing His mercy and His grace,
In the mansions bright and blessed
He'll prepare for us a place.
When we all get to Heaven,
What a day of rejoicing that will be!
When we all see Jesus,
We'll sing and shout the victory!
It will be a long walk home to Heaven.