Never Forgotten

I don't think there was a "normal" before Jordan and there certainly isn't one now.  The daily routine consists of helping our other four kids, spending time at work, and trying to spend as much family time as possible. We stay busy (sometimes too busy) as a way to cope and to build family memories.  Even now, the quiet moments are difficult to find.

In the past month, we have been hiking several times in the Columbia River Gorge and Silver Falls, biking, walking, and playing at the lake.  We spend many evenings playing games and taking family drives.  We talk about moving or building a house in the country as a way to escape from the noise of a neighborhood and to further encourage the children to spend time together.  We know the relationships we develop, especially with family, matter most.

Every few days, all or part of our family heads to the cemetery for a few moments with our memories.  Even the difficult reality of that small gravesite, still marked by the sod added to regrow the grass, does not diminish the peace we continue to feel there.  This tangible memorial is one more way we keep our son near.

Often, after sitting with our own son, we walk through rows of gravestones to ponder the love and loss of others.  Somehow, we feel connected to everyone here.  We feel joy each time we see a long life lived well (as evidenced by the messages of love etched in the gravestones), and shed tears when we see graves of other children and consider the heartache that family must have felt.

Several weeks ago, as my oldest son was walking through these rows, he came across the grave of a 7 year old boy who died in the mid 1800's.  On the dark, worn stone were carved the words, "Never Forgotten." I pondered how, while the current of time most certainly moved his family forward and perhaps away from this memorial, while it may have been many years since anyone was here to visit, this child is not forgotten by a Savior who knows even the sparrow that falls silently in a field.  No dark corner, no remote island, not even a grave can hide this child or any person from the love of God through Christ.  I am grateful for that knowledge for myself, my family, and for everyone.