Recently, the country commemorated the anniversary of our independence with a day of fun while our family suffered a tremendous loss: our Covey.
Tomorrow, Corey and I will be boarding a plane to fly home for the weekend to mourn with our family as we attend this beautiful angel's funeral.
This post is incredibly hard to write. Usually the words just come to me, but there's an evident block in my thinking. We are in a state of intense grief over Covey's passing because he was such a light to all of us. He was playful, silly, loving, and loud--his random, deafening screams will be dearly missed.
While I was just a cousin who only saw Covey a handful of times a year, those moments of connection with him are what I have to hold on to. I don't know why he would always choose me to take on a living room or backyard sightseeing tour as soon as I'd set foot in my uncle's home for the holidays or other get-togethers, but I am filled with gratitude that I had those moments to share with this sweet boy.
Because of his condition, he wasn't able to verbally communicate; I guess you could say I've never had a conversation with Covey, but I can tell you one thing: he loved everybody he came in contact with. One could tell by the way he looked at and interacted with them. His smile ranged from ear to ear while his laugh was utterly infectious, his eyes brightened with joy.
I cannot put into words how much I miss him and will continue to miss him when I go home for the holidays again. It won't be the same not having someone beg me to come with them to see the swings or look at the toys.
It is in times like this that we want to blame God. I want to blame God, just as many of us do; but I can't find it in my heart to do so.
I find it hard to set my perspective to the eternal setting as I grieve, but I do know that one day we will find so much peace and joy in the plan of salvation our Heavenly Father has laid out for us, that the words found in Mosiah 16:7-8 are nothing short of a solid truth:
"And if Christ has not risen from the dead, or have broken the bands of death that the grave should have no victory, and that death should have no string, there could have been no resurrection. But there IS a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ."
The only separation between Covey and his family is the veil. One day, it will be lifted and we will see him again.
Meanwhile, he is enveloped in the arms of a father who loves him so much, and that is so very comforting to ponder.
Covey may not be with us physically, but that is only temporary.
All I know is that Covey is touching many more hearts as he ventures through the spirit world declaring the truth that Jesus is the Christ with his loving and absolutely perfect personality.
I send my thanks to God for placing him in mortality when He did.
I'll see you soon, Covey, but until then, I'll miss you.
