Though, Yet I.

One month after Abigail left this earth, I picked up the pen to begin an exercise a fellow grieving mother suggested: my "though, yet I list". 

"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails, and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my Savior. The sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of the deer; he enables me to go on the heights." (Habakkuk 3:17)

Though, yet I. 

I've been going back to that list as thoughts of the holidays and the tides of grief and gratitude roll in and out. 

Though: 

I will never hold my sweet baby again with her warm body pressed to mine...

I will never feel her soft hair upon my cheek or her soft lips upon mine...

I will never again hear the tinkling of her laughter or the patter of her feet in the night or early morning hours...

I will never again hear her say "hold me, Mommy. Hold me."...

I will never again feel her soft small hand squeezing on to mine...

I will never again get to banter "I love you the most"...

I will never again read her another story or hear her read to me...

I will never again watch her cuddle with her daddy or siblings...

I will never again hear her squeal as she's being chased or asking to play "monster"...

I will never get to witness the beauty of sisterly relationship as she and Avonlea grow into womanhood together...

I will never witness her "firsts": first day of school, first time swimming without a life jacket, first time catching a fish, or riding a bike on her own...

I will never see her walk down the aisle on her daddy's arm to marry the young man we prayed over for her...

I will never hear "you be so mean!" again...

and though

I will never again lay with her as she falls asleep; nor have intimate talks late into the night as she gets older...

I will never see her face at 5, 7, 10, 16, 18, 21, and I'll never see her experience motherhood....

I will never have her sprawl across my chest as she sneaks into bed with me...

I'll never again see her face covered in paint or whatever food she's wearing for the day...

I'll never again hear her say "count to three, mommy!" and I'll never again "find her" or see her pop out from her hiding spot giggling...

I'll never see her precious way of covering her mouth with her hands when she got tickled...

I'll never know a life not weighted by tragic grief and the loss of a child...

Though I have no control over my children's ultimate safety and wellness....

Though I will never buckle her into her car seat again...

I will never watch her run her little bow-legged frolic, nor see her cuddle her kitty cat...

I will never again feel her arms cling around my neck while she cries, nor will I kiss another booboo...

I will never witness her sincere compassion or mischievousness...

and though

I will never again see her eyes alight with joy or hear her say, "yay, mommy!" as she claps for me...

I will never be able to offer another prayer over her or watch her play with friends...

I will never again help her precious little feet into shoes....

I will never watch her be baptized, celebrate another birthday or Christmas...

I will never again see how her brothers so affectionately coddle her, play with her, and protect her...

I will never again sneak up on her playing baby dolls or kitchen and listen to her talk through her narrative.....

I will never again see her in her mismatched layers of clothing she insists upon wearing...

I will never again see her pout or stomp away...

I will never again rock her or have her fall asleep in my arms...

I will never sing her another song...

Though I will never see her precious face again in this life...

Though I, her daddy, and her siblings have been robbed of a lifetime of new memories...

Though our family has been indelibly changed by a sorrow beyond words...

and Though I type these words today through a veil of tears and with a broken heart, 

"Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The sovereign Lord is my strength. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer; he enables me to go on the heights."