January 19, 2010
Yesterday, Paul would've been 9. When your last memory is 6 1/2, nine is hard to imagine. We celebrated by going with friends to the Putt-putt fun center in Killeen and doing a lot of the things that Paul loved to do. In his honor, I never bent down to place my ball, but dropped it and scooched it with my foot (something he had to do the last several months of his life because of the pain of bending over).
God is good. He has continued to bless us with wonderful, thoughtful friends who emailed and texted to remind us that they miss Paul, too. Thank you for that. It doesn't make me miss him any less, but it sure makes me feel not so lonely in it.
A friend sent these pictures to me today (they were taken in August of 2002, right before Whit was born). They are priceless treasures of wonderful memories. My first thought was how perfect his body was... no scars from surgery or port placements or biopsies... just smooth, perfect skin. I don't remember Paul like that, but it is good to be reminded.