The Suit Coat

 Snipp and Beauty had a wonderful and joyous wedding!

God was glorified. And the sacredness of matrimony was honored. 

These two jewels had done things God's Way and it was a huge blessing to be a part of it. 

I had proud mama tears for both of them. I love them so much. 

But other tears came full force at times. 

I know my beloved Jim is in Heaven and that is where he is suppose to be.

But that doesn't stop my heart from longing to reach for his hand as our son said his vows. 

Missing him standing by my side at the receiving line.

Or missing hearing his laughter and seeing his proud daddy smile as his son kissed his beloved. 

Jim's suit coat hung on the back of a chair in the memorial row. Some flowers and a picture of him and Snipp sat on the seat. Walking in and hanging it on the seat was the hardest thing I did on rehearsal day.

The hardest thing on the wedding day was removing that suit coat from that seat after everything was over. I tried not to sob. Tears I could control. But I didn't want to sob. I tried to hold my head high. The way he would have wanted me to. The way my sons would be proud of me. But as I neared my sister-in-law, the sobs escaped....she held me tight. I thought I might go down. Then she turned me to the car and with her arm around me, we finished the walk to the car. I carefully folded the suit coat and gently laid it on top of the picture of Snipp and his daddy. Another hug from my sister-in-law. Another from my cousin....so many people missing....Dad Scott, Jim, Nana, and several from Beauty's side. I hate death. 

On the way home, Snapp asked me about the suit coat. "It is the one your dad wore at our wedding," I told him. "Well, no wonder it got you," he said. It wasn't so much the suit coat as much as who it symbolized: the greatest man in the world who knew me through and through, but loved me deeply and completely anyway. My dearest and best friend who believed in me. Jim vowed to love me through anything and be faithful till death parted us. He kept his vow. I had the love of a life time with him. It was an amazingly deep level of love few couples reach. Feeling the overwhelming ache of his absence 15.5 years later at our son's wedding, I sobbed as if Jim had just been ripped freshly from my side...yeah, deep love does that to you. 

The pain is real and sharp and gut wrenching....but, oh, what a privilege to experience such sacred and precious love.