Daniel Albin Johnson

I know, it's not knitting. My friend Amy has been posting on her blog about the loss of her precious little boy. I weep with her when I read. Loss is loss, you do not "get over it", you adjust, you learn to live, you go through many changes, but the loss is still there. Like a small hole in your clothing. You forget about it, until something catches it and it tears. and sometimes we feel we walk alone in our grief. Only one other person in the world (Mom) truly shares memories with me of my brother, Daniel Albin Johnson 1967-1973. I rejoice in my belief that he is in a better place and that we will see each other one day again! But I miss him here on earth. I wonder if he would be a Daddy today, if our children would play and fight and celebrate together, if I would have liked his wife, if he would be a godly man, what his career would be and a million other things. It is not that I dwell on him. I don't dwell on loss. But recently several things have caught on that hole, ripping it open, making the wound tender. Today I am sharing his picture with you because I don't want his memory to die. This photo was taken in 1972, the year before he died. I believe he was 4.5 in this photo, the same age as my son, who is so like and yet so different than the namesake Uncle he will have to wait and meet in Heaven. Thank you Amy for your vulnerability and for the opportunity to continue to heal. Thanks Mom. I love you. Because He lives I can face tomorrow (thank you Gloria Gaither for your healing words)!