The most unimaginable pain.......
The loss of a child is one of those things that no parent wants to think about. My grandmother once told me that children should always outlive their parents; that it was the natural order of things. My grandmother had to bury one of her children, my uncle Roger Pierce, who passed away from injuries suffered in a motorcycle accident when I was younger. I'll never ever forget the pain I saw in her eyes, and the eyes of my mom and her siblings. Today, someone I know had to make the decision to let their little one go. Gabriel was 6 years old and fought a brave battle with illness, and his little body couldn't fight the fight any longer. As a mother, nothing scares me more than the thought of losing my children. It's something that if I even consider, my stomach knots up and I begin to panic. I know that death is a natural part of life, but I want to go first. I don't want to have to lose one of them before I go. I work in the health care field, and I've seen children go. I've known ones that are born, live for a short time, and make an impact on everyone around them and then pass on. I've known children who fight against unimaginable odds to hang on as long as they can. I've known children who are lost with no warning, from car accidents, to heart defects, to cancer, and to many other things that scare us in the dark.
When I first started working at the pediatric clinic, I'll never forget what true pain looked like. This mother came in wearing sunglasses. I asked her if I could help her, and she began to cry. Not a loud cry; the silent sobs that tore through her entire body and made you feel them. I took her back to a private room and she just held me in her arms and cried. Until that moment I'd never experienced something so powerful. She'd lost her son a few days before, with no warning. Her grief was palpable, and I felt it with every fiber of my being. All I could do was murmur soothing words, stroke her back, and hope to God that everything would really be OK. After she left, I broke down and sat on the floor with my head in my hands and cried for the loss and the pain I felt from her. Since then, I've felt the loss of so many other children. Sam, Tyler, Paxton, Ellie....and many more. Too many to count. Each one of them tears a little piece of my heart out, even though none of them are mine. I can't imagine the pain something like that does to you.
However, I see what comes out the other side. I've seen that ultimate loss turned into inspiration. Into hope. Into a vision for the future. Nothing can ever take away the pain of losing a child. Nothing. However I've met some amazing women who have come out of that fire forged with a will that is stronger than anything in this world. I think that a woman who has borne that tragedy is the strongest woman in the world. My hats off to all of you.
It also makes me take a break and appreciate the little things. Stupid things, really, like the fact that when my son puts the dishes away he seems to be incapable of closing the cabinet doors. Whenever he empties the dishwasher the kitchen looks like a scene from Poltergeist. The fact that my daughter named her boot "Martha". When my kids get into fart contests. When I have to yell at them for not doing their chores, or being smart-assed. I appreciate the fact that I am able to do these things because they're still here. I still go and check on them sometimes at night, even though one of them is five inches taller than me and the other can almost look me in the eye. They're still my babies, and they always will be. No matter what.
So tonight, before you go to bed, hug your little ones; no matter how big they are, and give thanks that you can. Say a prayer for all of those that have lost their children, so that they can find peace and healing in the future.
When I first started working at the pediatric clinic, I'll never forget what true pain looked like. This mother came in wearing sunglasses. I asked her if I could help her, and she began to cry. Not a loud cry; the silent sobs that tore through her entire body and made you feel them. I took her back to a private room and she just held me in her arms and cried. Until that moment I'd never experienced something so powerful. She'd lost her son a few days before, with no warning. Her grief was palpable, and I felt it with every fiber of my being. All I could do was murmur soothing words, stroke her back, and hope to God that everything would really be OK. After she left, I broke down and sat on the floor with my head in my hands and cried for the loss and the pain I felt from her. Since then, I've felt the loss of so many other children. Sam, Tyler, Paxton, Ellie....and many more. Too many to count. Each one of them tears a little piece of my heart out, even though none of them are mine. I can't imagine the pain something like that does to you.
However, I see what comes out the other side. I've seen that ultimate loss turned into inspiration. Into hope. Into a vision for the future. Nothing can ever take away the pain of losing a child. Nothing. However I've met some amazing women who have come out of that fire forged with a will that is stronger than anything in this world. I think that a woman who has borne that tragedy is the strongest woman in the world. My hats off to all of you.
It also makes me take a break and appreciate the little things. Stupid things, really, like the fact that when my son puts the dishes away he seems to be incapable of closing the cabinet doors. Whenever he empties the dishwasher the kitchen looks like a scene from Poltergeist. The fact that my daughter named her boot "Martha". When my kids get into fart contests. When I have to yell at them for not doing their chores, or being smart-assed. I appreciate the fact that I am able to do these things because they're still here. I still go and check on them sometimes at night, even though one of them is five inches taller than me and the other can almost look me in the eye. They're still my babies, and they always will be. No matter what.
So tonight, before you go to bed, hug your little ones; no matter how big they are, and give thanks that you can. Say a prayer for all of those that have lost their children, so that they can find peace and healing in the future.
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