That Day...Edited!!

Note to readers:  I have edited this post because I realized I did not include the meaning I felt upon seeing the fallen pictures.  My edited comments are in italics below.   

May 28, 2018.

The day was beautiful.  Sunshine and green leaves and grass everywhere, perfect for a trip to Decatur and Falling Springs Cemetery.

I'd bought flowers for our immediate family graves:  Lacy, Mom, Dad, and my infant brother, George Edward.

My brother, Dave, came with Kenny and I.  We drove the 20 minutes together to Falling Springs and placed the flowers near the resting places of each of our loved ones.  I never feel that they are "there" but I am so grateful that we have a place to go and reflect on their lives and the love we shared with each other.  The little Nativity I had put on Lacy's stone was still there after 6 months.  We moved it over and placed our small offering of love and remembrance next to the tiny creche.

I brought a prayer to read at the gravesides; a prayer of thanksgiving and acceptance.  Then we made our way back to our car and headed home.  We felt peace as we left Falling Springs and a bit of wistfulness for the past, but no regrets.  The memorials are there for generations and long after we are gone, someone will come along and say the names of our people out loud.  Perhaps they will know us, likely not, but they will acknowledge the loss of lives that meant so much.

The rest of our day was relaxing and fun.  We spent time with family in the early evening, and came home to a surprising scene.

On our wall in the living room, we have two pictures arranged together.  One is the first picture we had taken of Lacy when we adopted him.  He is three, almost four, and has on a little suit I made for him.  His blonde hair is curling around his head.  The other picture is the last picture we had framed of Lacy.  He has much shorter hair, is sitting in his recliner, and has scars on his forehead from his many falls.  His signature half-smile is evident.  We love it because it is so "Lacy."  Both pictures had come loose from the wall.  One was on the floor and the other hanging precariously by a wire.  Nothing was broken.  Kenny and I looked at each other.  Of all days...

Somehow this seemed to mean something.  I believe it was a sign - that Lacy is ok, he is happy, and we can be assured of seeing him again.  It is probably just a coincidence, but I felt a sense of joy and peace, as though we had been given permission to put bookends on the story of Lacy, and move on to whatever God has for us until we are reunited in glory.

Though it was just a random event, I felt one of those "God winks" as I looked at the pictures.  Of course we will put them up again and they will be a reminder of a season of gifts, challenge, hope, joy, and loss.  A reminder of the 33 years we spent with Lacy Alan Goff, and the gift of letting go and walking on that God gives his children.


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