All day today, I've felt restless. And tonight I realized that I've had a lump in my throat most of the day. It's been that feeling of being more aware of your heart beating than usual. Almost nervousness, but not really. And I just took some deep breaths and realized that I'd wanted to cry most of the day but hadn't let myself for some reason. I felt fine, but still sad somehow. Earlier I talked to my mom and heard the sadness in her voice as well. Yesterday was her birthday. And today was her dad's. Her entire life, her birthday has been about her and her daddy sharing their birthdays. But now he's gone. and after six birthdays it still hasn't really sunk in that she's by herself for the first time in her life... in that way. And while I want so much to comfort her, I know I can't.
And I've carried him in my heart and my mind all day. More than usual. And I think about how incredibly blessed and loved I've been. I am awestruck by the enormous reality that I was born into love. I've been brought up in love, provided for in love, & protected in love. Love has been my teacher and my safe place. and right now, in love, I grieve. And somehow, although it's been so many days and nights, today right this moment, I feel like I just lost him... again. It's just as fresh as it was the day he left. And in my spirit, I know truly that we are more united now than we've ever been. Not just him and me, but all of us... the Body and the Blood that truly connects us. Not the shared blood that runs through our veins, but the blood that frees us from death and releases us into freedom and life. And as much as that is true and as much as I breathe it in and out, I miss him. I miss his heart, and I miss his eyes, and I miss the way he smelled. I miss the way he'd stand with one hip cocked out in the slightest bit, just like his father and his brothers and my brothers. I miss the roughness of his hands and how gently he held mine. I miss the way he looked at me, and how safe I felt when he hugged me. I miss seeing him kiss my grandmaw and I miss the echo of his laughter. I just miss him.
And I find myself needing to do something for him... for his birthday. And I want to give him what I always wanted give him. Honor. So tonight I write this as a witness. That there was a man named Aaron Bryce Hager, that mattered more to a few people than anyone could imagine. He was strong and beautiful and simple. He walked in true Love everyday I knew him, and he wore the character of the Lord like a cloak around him. He was born in blue mountains and loved the creation and taught his way of love to us. He worked hard and he got dirty and he loved every minute of it. He was firm but surprisingly sensitive, and he carried the hearts of hurting people close to his own. Sometimes too close. He fell in love young, and he stayed deeply in love all the rest of his days, and his wife knew she was his treasure. And so did the rest of us. He honored his parents and loved them through the end of their lives, and he missed them every day after. He fathered his children well and he is still their hero. He had eight grandchildren that think he hung the moon, although he was quick to let them know he did not, because he knew who did. He was loved by them and cherished by them and kissed by them at every possible opportunity. He had the gift of allowing a 25 year old girl to be his little girl and still honor her as a woman. He openly and eagerly blessed us and he disciplined us and he taught us what a man is, and what it is to live as unto the Lord. He expected me to stand strong and never give up, and he never let me cry alone in his presence. He was beautifully flawed and incredibly imperfect, and it only adds to the sweetness of his humility. He was a gardener and a fisherman and a mechanic. He was an artist, a gifted musician and a worshiper, and he also gave these to his children and his children's children. He taught his boys to be men that knew how to love, and he valued the women in his heart more than any words that could be written. At the end of his life, he knew he was dying and he was not afraid. It wasn't his nature. He saw the Great Love of his life like he never had before and he was going home. He waited for his wife, as he always did, and in her arms he gave her his peace. And then for the first time in his life, he left. There was a man named Aaron Hager and he was a good man. He was honorable and virtuous and he was openly praised often. He is lifted up no more in his death than he was in his life, and he knew he was loved. And he made sure we knew we were, and he loved us well.
So now, with all of that, I release him and all the day's pent-up thoughts. I'm going to sleep with some peace now. And the lump in my throat is finally gone. Happy Birthday Pawpaw.
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