I've forgotten how much I miss Trent. I miss him intensely all the time; I live with the dull ache of missing him every day, but on some level I have gotten used to what it feels like to miss him. But today, looking through old pictures for a certain horse one ... he was there, everywhere. I miss him. I miss who he was: my Trent. I just miss him; I miss his smile, his laugh, his presence in our family. I miss his being near, his being at the table for supper, his being in his bed when I walk upstairs heading to my own. I feel a resolve to wait and trust God until eternity begins to see him again; but then I see his pictures and am reminded all over again how hard this really is. The glory that will be revealed on "that day" must be enormous to have to endure this now. All I have to do is wait, and trust, and somehow live each day inbetween now and then. I don't want to learn to live without him. I would rather live with the pain of missing him than learn to live without him. My brain can't fathom really living with him gone. I will go on, albeit half-heartedly, in this world; ultimately only living for the next one.