Wrong Number

I have been feeling the weight of sorrow on my chest tonight. Jon has been doing his best to pull me out of the funk but some nights a girl just needs a good cry. Tonight may be one of those nights. 

I taught the young women in church today. The subject was the worth of souls. In one section it was suggested I have a young mother with a baby come tell about her love for her baby and the worth of her child to her. Instead I talked about my girls, why I have flowers for them, and what each flower means. I talked about how I love each of them differently but equally. Most of all, I tried to convey to the girls how much each child individually means to a parent. 

Many times when I speak, especially to the young women, I am able to hold it together. Today was not one of those days. It was not the easiest lesson to give for that reason, but I think the girls felt the love and got the point. 

We also just received the DVD with all the video we have of Camille. My brother in law Aaron and his wife Carolyn made it for us. We watched it today. It is wonderfully done. Still, it is pitiful how little video we have of just Camille. It is the curse of being the fourth kid. Parents don't video you turning over or making cute noises so much if you are fourth. Most of the clips only have Camille in the background. There are only two with her as the star. Her birthday party is one and she seems overwhelmed through most of it. The other is her climbing into the cup drawer. It is priceless to me.

Watching the video I was so sad to realize we do not have her laugh recorded. I miss her laugh. I can hardly remember it now. That just kills me.

Then to top the night off, as we were playing Clue as a family tonight I got a phone call. The person on the other end asked "Is Cami there?" 

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Is Cami there?" she repeated.

Inside I was thinking, "Yes, there is a Cami here. Or there was. There should be." Instead I had to reply, "I think you have the wrong number." It shouldn't be a wrong number if they ask for Cami, but it is now. Yes, sometimes reality sneaks up and bites.

Enough of this downer day. I am off to bed. I will leave you with one of my favorite poems for dark and dreary days.

The Rainy Day

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the moldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the moldering Past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.