Some days I am in total denial the Jivenson ever died.
When I close my eyes I can still feel the weight of carrying him in my arms. I can still feel his tummy on my hand and hear his laughter as he gives his greatest attempt at a high-five.
Yesterday as I was packing for the container with some of our devoted supporters, I found an orange and white stripped outfit, identical to one he frequently wore in Haiti. Today at WalMart I walked past a bright red Thomas the Train T-shirt similar to one of his favorite outfits. Little reminders of Little Jeeves pop up everywhere.
I don't really know where I am going with this...I was just crying in bed and I couldn't fall asleep. It's happened before and I don't usually write a blog post about it, but for some reason, tonight I was compelled to write.
I miss him even more when I'm not in Haiti. Maybe it's because I miss all of the other kids too, but then I remember that I won't be going back and finding him waiting for me at HOPE House. Or maybe it's because this is where I sat when I found out he had sickle-cell anemia.
"The sharp knife of a short life."
I know he's happy. I know he's with Jesus. I know he was with us for just the amount of days, hours, minutes, and seconds he was supposed to be. But I'll still miss him for a really long time.
Maybe I shouldn't be allowed to update the blog after midnight. For what it's worth, this is me, and this is honest. Love you Jeeves.