Sunday, October 30, 2011


Every "I wish"

Every "I'm so sorry"

Every "If I could only go back"

They're futile.  They're pointless.  They only serve to punish myself.

I wish I could hold him again, I wish I could change it all, I wish we had done it differently, I wish he never died.

I'm so sorry, Everett, I'm so sorry we messed up, I'm so sorry you paid for it.  I'm so sorry we failed you, I'm so sorry you're not here, I'm so sorry I couldn't fix it.

If I could only go back, I'd do it all differently, if I could only go back I'd tell them to take cautious, slower approach, I'd tell them to give you time.  If I could only go back, I'd hold you more and kiss you more and tell you more how much you mean to us.  If I could only go back, maybe I could save you.

Wishes don't come true.

I'm sorry doesn't change a thing.

And I can't go back.

And where does that leave me? Grieving and in pain, with nothing to do but cry out in pain, and in prayer, and let God do what he's been doing since we first lost Everett, hold me up. 

God please, hold me up, when I'm swallowed up in the futility of it all, when my grief is consuming me, hold me up.


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