A familiar sound greeted me this morning: the music of MonaJean’s wind chime, given to us by some dear friends after her death. The breeze was blowing strongly in the early hours, and with each note, I was swept back to memories of her “resurrection day” three years ago.
It was a day of hope, rejoicing, and treasured hours of welcomed warmth together as a family outside of the cold, sterile walls of the hospital. By all scientific reasoning she shouldn’t have still been with us. But God gave us those hours of peaceful togetherness- a late night that included a house tour, Andrew Peterson music, an NC State basketball victory, and of course an introduction to each of Zachary’s snugglies (his prized stuffed animal collection).
Because what else do you do when life is slipping from your grasp? You make the very most of it and celebrate those minutes, hours, or days you do have, no matter how broken each moment may seem. Life is a gift. Each of these memories sings a delicate, pleasant note in the wind chime of MonaJean’s life.
None of us knew the time would be so quickly disrupted, and I’ll probably record more of my reflections on that tomorrow, but for today, I remember that sacred gift of this day three years ago and the song it will forever carry in my heart.
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