Dear Samuel,

Sam's grave--the stumps around it are to keep the cows from trampling around it while the fence gets put up!

It’s been three months since we said goodbye, Baby Boy. I visited your grave on Mother’s Day, but I feel closer to you in these monthly letters than beside your grave. Your soul is not there. I can feel it. I send these letters to heaven, hoping Jesus will tell you how much I love you still. Heaven is where you are, so heaven is where I send my love.

You and I both know I have a great imagination. When you were with me, I took warm baths with seashells on my tummy, and I imagined us playing at the beach. I imagined carrying you in a sling on my hip, and that’s how it felt to me when I was pregnant. You weren’t just a bump I was waiting to turn into a baby. You were always my son. I don’t know what heaven looks like. Truth tells me it is good. My imagination takes me there.

I imagine you playing in a kiddie pool, slapping the water flat-handed and squealing. I imagine other babies who are special to me as your playmates. I imagine you always wear blue. I imagine you whole and happy. My heart groans to hold you again, but I’m so glad you’re safe. I don’t know if there are really kiddie pools or tree forts or any of the other funny things I imagine. But I know you are in a place where all things are good.

Daddy and I talk about you, how much we love you, how much we wish we would have gotten to do things like take you to church and show you off, teach you to walk and talk, introduce you to ice cream. Daddy wishes he would have gotten to take you to little league and fishing and hiking in the mountains. I wish I could have watched you go to your first day of kindergarten. There’s alot I wish could have happened. I sure miss you, Baby Boy.

We are sad, but we are happy sometimes too! Daddy and I love to go on walks together. We love to cook and watch movies and joke around. We are making plans for the future, even though it’s hard to think about the future knowing you’re not in it the way we wanted you to be. Still, we laugh together and cry together and we love one another even more than before. It’s because you were here! I’m so proud of Daddy for taking such good care of us, and he’s so proud of me for carrying you. We got to see eachother as parents, and you made that happen, Sammy! What a gift you were.

There is a dove’s nest near your grave. I could hear cooing while I sat there. I hear doves cooing this morning, and it makes me feel connected to you. Noah sent a dove from the ark to see if there was land nearby, and it came with a freshly plucked olive leaf in its mouth. Hope for dry land! The dove by your grave and the doves outside my window help me hope for dry land after this storm. I like that there is even a symbol of this hope, cooing over your grave. We wait.

You’re in a safer and safer place in my heart, Sam. Every day I wrap you up in more hope. Every day I heal a little bit more. I miss you. I am so glad you’re happy. I can’t wait to see you again. I’ll love you forever.