I still foolishly believe there’s always tomorrow.
But we ran out of time.
For months I’ve been planning a trip to Mississippi next winter, once baby Shelby was here.
We formed an improbable friendship, you and I. We had nothing in common, and over 20 years difference in age. But you became my iDaughter, as we liked to say, the daughter I never had. And I hope that in some way, I gave you something that you needed, too.
Selfishly, though, I feel so cheated that there will be no more visits like that.
I don’t ask “why”. It’s not for me to question why God would choose to take you home now. I trust His plan, even when it doesn’t seem to make sense.
Last night I stood outside looking up at the heavens, imagining where you are and how beautiful it must be there, and suddenly a shooting star lit up the night sky.
It was as if you were saying, “It’s okay, don’t worry about me. Everything will be fine.”