It feels like one of my limbs was slowly ripped off, and now that it is completely gone, the wound is exposed, raw and deeply painful. The loss of Judson leaves a huge, gaping hole in our lives, like a leg that was once part of the body, is now gone. I know that over time the shock will dissipate, the pain will diminish in intensity, and the wound will begin to scab, but our “leg” will always be missing.
Having walked this earth with our sweet Judson, how do I walk without him now? How do I walk with one leg?
Every step reminds me of our missing limb. Our double-stroller is empty on one side. Our car no longer has two car seats. Jud’s “big boy” bed remains unoccupied. His feeding seat is now in the garage. And each family photograph we now take, is a glaring impression of the tremendous loss we have suffered.
My heart aches for the opportunity to gaze upon Jud’s lovely face, see his beautiful smile, hold his precious body, lay my cheek on his, stroke his lovely blonde hair, and shower him with kisses.
Though the agony from this amputation may slowly fade, we will never be able to walk without limping…until we, too, are restored to wholeness in the arms of our Father, just like Jud.