One sultry summer’s evening, I found myself pondering the activities of the day.  I sat on a lounge chair on the back deck overlooking our pool which still had various toys strewn about it.  It was a Saturday, and our family had spent the day outside as it was such a beautiful summer day.  Eliana was 6, Kya was 4 and Everett was a newborn.

Just a few months earlier…the moment when Mom died.

As I sat and reflected on the fun of the day, I remembered how our little daughters had such a fun time swimming and having fun with Keri and me.  I recalled holding Everett off and on throughout the day, what parents do to switch which kid gets to play with which adult.

…And I reflected on how much Mom will miss.  These little girls wouldn’t stay little forever.  Everett would soon grow up to be a strong young man.  These moments, stored away in my heart.

Mom was such an awesome grandma to our kids.  Though they were borderline too young to remember her (Eliana has faint memories…Kya has none), she showered them with love and gifts and prayers.  They’d often go over to Mama Pam and Papa Bob’s house for a fun filled day.  Dropping them off there also gave Keri and me a welcome respite from the hustle of raising a young family.

Drifting back to reality, I heard the patter of small footprints approaching, I looked over my shoulder to see Eliana heading my direction.

“What are you doing Dad?” she asked.

“Just sitting here.” I answered as she crawled up on my lap.

Noticing something different, she looked into my eyes.  “Are you sad?” she asked.

Apparently, the moments of reflection about Mom had translated into an outward expression of sorrow.

“Yes, honey, I am sad.”

“What are you sad about?” came her response.

“I was just thinking about Mama Pam was all.  I was thinking about all the things she’d miss as you guys grow up through the years.  Do you miss her?” I asked.

“Ya, I do.  Hey, I have an idea that will make you happy.  Stay here.” she said as she scampered down off my lap and ran into the house.

I hadn’t a clue what she was doing, and soon my mind returned to wandering about how much I missed Mom.

Within a few short moments, Eliana had returned.  “Here, look at this.  This will make you happy.”

In her tiny hand was a picture of Mom.

This particular picture…one of my favorites.  It was one where Mom was giving both girls a special hug.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked toward Eliana and said “Thank you, you’re right, this does make me happy.”

We hugged and in typical 6-year-old fashion, she scampered down off my lap and ran off yelling… “Catch me Daddy, catch me if you can!”

A game of tag had begun.  It was a welcome break to my melancholy.  Somehow, I knew that even though Mom was going to miss a lot of things…she was there.  I want to believe that on that Summer’s Day, and many days since, she’s been able to see her grandkids grow up.  I want to believe, that even though my kids were young when she died, that her legacy of love and gifts and prayers continue.

I want to believe…