Touch

This week I have longed to be able to touch Jax again. 

I look at pictures and pretend as I touch his hands or chubby cheeks on the photograph that it is really him. I try to remember what he felt like.  The last time I got to touch his soft skin was when he was no longer with us. He was cold, clammy, and stiff. Not anything like my baby boy was truly. 

It's hard to imagine death sometimes especially when we see the body of the person whose soul has gone on. Thankfully, God has given me the peace to remember Jax as a healthy, happy boy and the calmness to remember that he is healthier and happier now.

We long to touch the things we can't. We are human and wonder is in our nature. As a child we were told not to touch items in a store or at a fancy home but we still wanted to and often did. God made us with the sense of touch. We feel through it, both emotionally and physically. 

Now, instead of touching my son's hair or soft cheeks I touch his toys or his baby blanket (that I guard with my life) but I don't think that these items are Jax. The touch of them remind me of him and the time we had together on Earth.

I'm thankful for touch. I'm thankful I can remember when Jax was born. I'm thankful I can remember the last time I held him. I'm thankful I will touch him again.