Your brother is going away to college. I looked for a way to pack his stuff so his bedding would fit inside his suitcase. Then I remembered the vacuum sealer bags that suck out all the air. It’s a great way to save room. You know what else it’s great for? It preserves the unique scent of whatever you encase.

I tried to do that with your bedding so I would still have the scent of you. But the seal broke in storage and I’m afraid your Tristan scent wafted away out of existence.
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I’m too afraid to check. The bag is still sitting there, in your room on top of your bed, waiting. I don’t know if I”ll ever have the courage to investigate.
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 Warm, like sun on wood, that was your scent. I can’t stand to know it’s lost to me. I wonder what your scent is like in heaven? I can’t wait to grab you up and drink it in.
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One of my favorite things to do when you were a newborn was to snuffle your warm head and hold it in the crook of my neck just so. Then I’d pat your back in that familiar pattern, pat-pat-PAT, pat-pat-PAT, with just the slightest emphasis on the last beat. 
After you were buried and they finished filling in your grave, your sister and I knelt beside it just to be closer to you. She watched as I placed my hand on the cold earth, pat-pat-PAT, pat-pat-PAT. I couldn’t help myself. It was my last goodbye.
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I was glad when she recognized the rhythm I used on all of my babies and she gave a little chuckle of remembrance as we shared a knowing glance.  It’s surprising that laughter made its way to your graveside on the worst day of our lives. 
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Even in the deepest mourning, God is there. And with God comes the possibility of joy and brightness and redemption. The opposite of all the things you were feeling when you left. But you’re seeing it now! Brighter than the sun that He made! His glory outshines the curse that took you.
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One day, He will redeem it all. And you know what I’m going to do then? I’ll throw my arms around you and after a good long cry, I’ll hold you close and pat-pat-PAT, pat-pat-PAT...
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Dear Lord, it never meant much to me that you would redeem all things one day. I was redeemed, my kids were redeemed, I didn’t think further than that. Then the worst thing in the world happened that was impossible to fathom, let alone redeem. And now I groan with all creation longing for Your redemption of it all. You are already using Tristan’s story to burn away the dross and give us eyes to see. I do love you more than I ever have. Save me from myself. In Jesus name, amen.