High in the sky

I'm blogging from the plane. I'm planning on this being the last depressing post. Jack thinks that the plane has stopped and that we're waiting our turn to start flying again. He ran on to the plane during boarding. He has gone potty in the teensiest bathroom at least twenty times. We've become good friends with the flight crew. It's an understatement to say he's excited. Charlie's just chillin'. I had him drink a bottle during take off so his ears would pop on the way up. He's been content.

So yesterday was really rough. The movers had our house loaded up in 2 hours. Travis had already taken the boys to Samantha and headed to Chicago in our car. Once the movers left and I was cleaning, I had time to just sit in each room and smile/cry over all the great memories we made in our home... Keeping Aiden. Finding out we were expecting a baby. The cheers with our friends and family over finding out we were having a boy, watching that boy roll over then crawl then walk. Late night feedings. Potty celebrations. Another baby. More late night feedings. His crawling in the same spot as his big brother. So many sweet times of fellowship with our family and friends. We grew up in that house.

Lacy picked me up to give me a ride to Sam's. It was really hard pulling away from the house where we brought our babies from the hospital, where we prayed in community, where we went from two to four. Really hard. But then I became so thankful that those important things will always be with us regardless of the four walls around us. And I'm writing this so that when my memory fails me, the words will bring it back.

Once we got to Samantha's house, Lacy and I said goodbye with a hard hug and tears, and I went inside to my babies. Just totally drained. The rest of the day was fun, though. The kids played. Sam took Jack with her boys to go pick up Adam, and Sydney was an extra mama with me for Charlie. She is tremendously helpful with pretty much all things baby. We had chicken and veggies with pasta for dinner and then beignets for dessert. We all gobbled those up!

After the kids were bathed, we all were in the den for book time and then prayers. All of us, including little Cruze, were our knees and took turns praying. I'm thankful for that time with my family. Then I hugged those precious children. Shoot. The flight attendant probably thinks something is wrong with me. I keep smiling and crying. Those kids are just my heart. Many memories flooded my mind as I kissed Aiden, my buddy; Sydney, my princess; and Cruze, my little cutie. And I know when I see them again they'll be so much bigger. Growing up without my eyes taking it in. Thank God for Skype.

This morning, we scurried around getting ready, said goodbye to Cruze and Syd again since they were awake, goodbye to Adam, and hopped in the car. Ok. The next twenty minutes were awful. We both talked as normal but knew it was not going to be pretty once we got to the airport. And it wasn't.

My twin is my missing link. She knows me better than anyone. She loves my kids as her own. Her kids are mine. We've shared and seen the best and worst in each other. We've gotten each other through some rough patches. We have experienced life together. We are bound in Jesus, deeper than blood. She and I will be found barefoot and talking nonstop in Heaven because after all this time, we still can't shut up when we're together. I think God meant that when He put us together in the belly. Sisters, twins, friends. I adore Sam. So all of that sobbing and hugging at the airport this morning was a release of a great grief I can't really hold on my own. We've only spent one summer apart in our lives. And it was hard. I am trusting God to patch that hurt while we're separated by pieces of earth. I walked away from her with a heavy deep sadness, but I'm thankful that I love someone that much. It has added richness to my life. If you see her, hug her hard for me. Tell her I said that. Love you, Sam!!

My next post will be from Chicago! It will take us a while to get settled, but I'll do my best to keep the details. I don't want to forget this story. Goodbye, Mississippi. I miss you already.