Conversation with Matthew

I’d just finished picking up a few things at Sam’s Club and was pushing the buggy I’d unintentionally filled to the car. Matthew, who’s always full of conversation, was telling me about a dream he’d had of his Dad. Ironically, but not, Dana, who I’d just dropped off one shopping center over, had a similar dream the night before. We were loading the fruit cups and bottled water and way-too-much Romaine lettuce in the trunk when Matthew stopped mid-sentence and asked, “Mom, what are you gonna do for your anniversary?” (Can’t you just hear him saying that?) It caught me off guard. My first thought was how does he even know what an anniversary is? I answered him honestly. “You know Matthew, I don’t know.” Immediately he began rattling off plans for a party and who he would invite and what games we would play. It amazed me how my eight-year-old son could understand the significance of such a day when he wasn’t even born, yet, and quite frankly wasn’t even a thought. As Matthew kept talking, my heart could sense Sean. I knew at that moment Sean and I had done a great job showing Matthew what real love looks like, to each other and to him and Dana. It wasn’t perfect. It isn’t perfect. Even in its ups and downs…

Love never gives up. It cares more for others than for self. It doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, doesn't have a swelled head, doesn't force itself on others, isn't always "me first," doesn't fly off the handle, doesn't keep score of the sins of others, doesn't revel when others grovel, takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, puts up with anything, trusts God always, always looks for the best, never looks back but keeps going to the end. Love never dies. (1 Cor. 13:4-8 The Message Bible)

Many friends have asked how we’re doing. It has been conversations like these with my children that have not only kept me focused but have also reminded me of the legacy I’ve been blessed and assigned to protect. We’ve had many conversations. Some of them I’ve chosen to share and others are yet to be had.

I miss my husband, tremendously.

As Matthew climbed in the car, I decided I would hold back my tears for now and instead join in his enthusiasm. With a big grin on his face and in his Dad’s sense of humor, he said, “I think Dana should choose where to have it ‘cause if I choose, we’ll have it at a kids’ place…like Chuck E Cheez.” I laughed out loud. Sean hated Chuck E Cheez!