Someone is always missing
This week as Mother's day approaches, I am reflecting on my boys and the milestones that their dad is missing. The first big one was our eldest son's graduation from High School. It was a really tough final year for him at school. He has never found study easy or "natural" and so for him to graduate is in and of itself an amazing achievement. The school were awesome and really did a lot to help him. His year 12 year was the year his dad died - just to add one more layer of stress! To see him graduate surrounded by so many smiles and hugs and cheers and laughs and happy tears, there was so much joy. SOO much joy. And one massive hole. One gap in the photos. One less smile to see. One less hug to share. One less cheer. One fewer people to celebrate. Only one person was missing. His dad.
Now as the other boys get closer to the end of their schooling; as they begin to emerge out of the worst of the teenage angst and drama and begin to show me the young men they are becoming, I think of their dad again. They are almost as tall as him and yet when he died they were still shorter than me! In all of their achievements and just all of life's busy-ness, there is always one person missing.