I've known for a long time that this weekend marked this painful milestone for me, for us. The one where our baby has officially been gone for as many days as we held him. I found it ironic that we'll secretly celebrate that Zekey has been in heaven for 141 days on the same day we will joyfully celebrate our savior rising up to save us. Not only will we remember tomorrow as the most significant day in history (go ahead, argue it...), but we'll celebrate it as I ponder without a shadow of a doubt what it will be like to be there. To be perfect. To be whole. To be loved without the possibility of disappointment or pain.
There are so many ways my life has changed over the last 141 days. So many. But the most significant is the way I perceive my world. It's different. It's tainted. It's like I'm stuck in a long hallway with air that's just musty enough to notice it. Every wall and even the ceiling is covered in glass windows. I can see the beautiful sky, and gorgeous mountains surrounding me so clearly that I can almost, almost, smell the clean crisp scent. But getting out, it's is next to impossible.
I think about heaven everyday. Everyday. The present heaven, the future heaven, when the Lord comes down and restores this earth to perfection and we live forever and ever, without counting our days. I WILL get out and smell the clean crisp air. I can practically taste it. Practically.
I'm thankful for tomorrow. For a day to celebrate Our Savior and His ultimate plan playing out. And I'm thankful for 141 days of perfect sweet baby, even if it did turn into 141 days of unending tears because I have new eyes, new eyes! And I will smell that air someday...