I miss my friend

I notice Ella has her underwear on sideways as she trots away from me, her blond curls bouncing as she takes "Wee-ya" (Olivia) a sippy of milk, her own sippy clutched tightly in her other hand. One side of her hiney is totally exposed and her plump booty cheek is so pinchable.

And then it hits me, she'll never remember Paige. Ever. She's too young.

The waves of grief wash over me again.

Paige loved our children so much. I don't know why. I can't explain it to other people, but she loved our kids BIG.

I hate using past tense verbs to describe her.

I hate that at least once a day I feel the urge to call her and see how she's doing and then I remember, she's the reason none of us are okay.


Does that even make sense? I feel the need to call her to see how she's dealing with all of this and then it occurs to me that she's not dealing with all of this.

It's crazy how much I miss her already. Under normal circumstances, I'd go a week without physically seeing her. I guess knowing I'll never see her face again, while on this earth, makes it hurt more quickly.

She was suppose to come visit us next summer in Africa and be our intern. She was suppose to take Ashlee out for special-time. She was suppose to be here today to celebrate Elizabeth's 8th birthday with us.

Instead, she's gone.

And what are we suppose to do now? My heart is so broken.

I want to call off going to Africa and to cling to a "normal life." I want to buy a house, establish our family in a good neighborhood and disciple our children, weaving Paige's memory through our days so we never forget.

I want to push forward toward Africa with fervency because I know obedience to God's calling was so important to Paige and we can honor her in that way. Besides, God hasn't changed His calling our lives.

I want to disciple another youth, watch them grow in the Lord and blossom into the person God created them to be.

I want to be sure we never get that close to another youth again because the hurt of this loss is too much to bear again.

My heart flips in my chest and tears sting my eyes.

Will our children remember her? Will I forget her?

I want her to be sitting on our couch, sharing a bag of peanut M&Ms with me as we talk about her upcoming semester at school, the funny things our kids said this week and theology that neither of us fully understand.

But that would be selfish. It would be selfish for God to answer that prayer because it would take her away from the feet of her Savior, out of the courts of the Most High, away from worshipping the One she devoted herself to daily.

I'm angry.

I'm sad.

I'm broken.

I'm worried.

She was in my day to day. I'd think of her and send her a quick text telling her so because I knew how much words of affirmation meant to her.

We'd planned to visit her at school this semester so that the kids could see all the snow.

If my flesh can ever stop grieving her loss, I know my heart would rejoice in the joy that I know she's experiencing. But my flesh is hurting.

Hurting for my own loss, for the loss of my children, for the loss of her family - her sisters, her brother, her dad, her mother. I'm hurting for the loss of her BFF. I wonder how I'd survive the loss of my own daughter, sister or BFF.

I yearn for a day when happiness prevails but I'm dreading the day I wake up and she's not the first thing on my mind.

I don't expect people to understand how a 30-something mother of 7 children grieves the loss of a 20 year old college student so much. To the world our relationship had to look crazy. But our hearts were knit together inexplicably.

She was more than a mentee, she was my friend. She challenged me, encouraged me and continued to point me to the Father. She was family while no official title could describe how she was related to us.

I miss my friend.