In my minds eye you are a beautiful, chubby, squishy newborn with wet curly hair, much like your oldest sister. You look at me and the world with confused and wondering dark blue eyes. In my minds arms I cuddle your wiggling warm body close to my heart. In my minds breath I deeply inhale your intoxicating newborn smell. I kiss your head. I hush you and pat your tiny bum in rhythm with my heart. But it is only a dream, a vision of imagination birthed by my longing heart.
In truth your entire world rests with what is left of your body in a small earring box buried just feet from where I sit. Weeds grow nearly as tall as the cross your daddy made you. It has hurt too much to tend to your tiny grave.
I know that my redeemer lives, and I know that you shall too. But until the last day, when body and soul are reunited, I will miss you my love. You were not made to die. But you were made and you died. I know Christ weeps with me and cradles your soul in His arms. I know you are a gift. Thanks be to God that He made you. I know that Christ thought of you on the cross even if the world never thinks of you again. I know that my redeemer lives, and because of that you shall too.
