One of my absolute favorite family traditions is celebrating the night before a holiday, anniversary or birthday. We share a meal and reminisce about the year gone by. The reminiscing culminates by lighting and blowing out a candle that sits atop a cupcake, ice cream waffle cone, or cake. We celebrate the year that has passed and look forward in gratitude to the year before us.
The eve of Toby’s death hits differently. I get quiet. My earbuds work overtime blasting praise and worship music on repeat. I recall memories resulting in tears streaming down my cheeks and sometimes the opposite, side splitting laughter. Simultaneously, time slows, yet time speeds up. I close my eyes and hold precious memories of Toby close. I intentionally bring forth the memory of his hands; I feel the intentionality of his engulfing hugs. I feel the radiance of his smile, and I hear his unique chuckle accompanied with his side-eyed grin.
I hear the annoying way he cleared his sinuses, threw a baseball, called Meg (our dog), his walk, his awful (tennis) serve and backhand, and his amazing penalty kicks (soccer). So, this year, I am sitting outside under a Carolina blue sky on the eve of Toby meeting Jesus thanking the Lord for the time he gave me with my brother. I close my eyes and ask God to preserve these memories in my heart and to continue giving me signs that Toby is near.
-Claire Cunningham
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