MISSING ADAM

My whole body aches. We've just come back from a horseback ride to the river. I rode Libby across to the island and than left her to munch grass while Matt, Daniel and I waded and swam to the far shore. Now I'm back home and feeling the fact that I haven't exercised in weeks. So I'm lying on a mat on the back porch staring at the tin roofing...and I'm missing Adam. I miss him snuggling up to me when he's really tired. I miss his gnawing my finger to comfort himself. I miss massaging his chest as his head wags back and forth as he fights sleep. I miss his cooing and clutching my fingers. I miss his snorts as he realizes lunch is about to be served. I miss hearing him attack Sarah's breast taking in more air than milk. I miss his drunken look as he emerges after a feeding and stares around dazed and happy. I miss his series of three crescendoing burps after eating. I miss watching him startle himself with an extra loud belch.

I miss his cries of frustration as he wants to crawl but can't just quite coordinate it all yet. I miss his pushing up on his back legs and flopping forward in a vain attempt to capture whatever object is before him. I miss his lunging onto Miriam in a playful brawl that she doesn't appreciate as well.

I miss him sitting and staring at Miriam while playing with her hand. I miss him looking across the mat, seeing his sister and smiling his dorky grin.

I miss that grin. The full open mouth with the tongue stuck straight out and the eyes bright. I miss his chortle as I tickle him. I miss him not knowing whether to laugh or cry as I try to entertain him when he's tired. I miss his staring into my face and rapidly extending both arms and legs and letting them drop on the floor as he looks to me for approval. I miss him doing something and looking my way and smiling shyly when he realizes I'm watching and cheering him on.

I miss his surprised look as his whole body tenses when the first water of his bucket bath hits his head. I miss him pretending to want his mashed sweet potatoes only to swirl them around in his mouth, mix them with his saliva and either let it drool out slowly or spit it out with a pleased look in his eye. I miss his fast moves to knock the spoon out of my hand or grab the bowl and smear sweet potatoes all over his face, hands and feet. I miss him grabbing his feet and putting his toes in his mouth so he can suck his big toe. I miss my dreams for him. I miss the fact I'll never know what his hair color will really be. Will it be curly or straight? Will his eyes change or stay blue? What will his first words be? Dada? Mama? I miss seeing him crawl, stand, walk, run, jump, play, sing, make up stories, shoot hoops, learn languages, travel in the vanagon, listen to tales from the Bible, learn to read himself...I miss all the things I planned to do with my firstborn son. I miss having him hang around the operating room. I miss having him tag along in clinic. I miss taking him to the river. I miss bringing him his first pony. I miss it all.

Yeah, I miss Adam a lot. In the words of a song I wrote when my twin brother, David, was killed in a car accident 10 years ago: "But I miss you, I want you back right now,...to hear you laugh out loud. My tears flow uncontrollably, so fast, I cannot even see. But still I know...I'll see you again. No matter how long that may be. I'll see you again. Though right now, it all seems a dream. The Lord and His promises are sure. He's faithful, our hope is secure. I'll see you again."