Today was an incredibly emotional day for me. Like most every American, I roll over in bed and scroll Facebook for a few minutes. I may have read 4 posts before I saw the one that was clearly very sad news. While reading the comments my heart fell thru the boxes springs. I was so overwhelmed with sorrow for a family I barely knew. I grew up with the man, but his family I hadn't seen in years. Their little girl had passed away.
Yes, she had health issues. She'd had 2 heart transplants, but I didn't know all the details. What I did know is less than a month ago I was admiring the pictures of them on vacation, and then today she was gone.
The harsh reality of that started to rattle me. Truth be told, I cannot imagine what they are feeling right now. I don't want to. The thought of spending one day on this earth without one of my children is an unbearable thought to say the very least. The seconds seemed to drag on for minutes as the images flashed through my mind. Mother's aren't designed to bury their babies.
As the day went on, I shed more than I believe to be normal, but I'm OK with that. I just kept looking at the pictures of my sweet tiny humans on my desk and thinking what in earth I'd ever do. I'm very thankful that my children have always been relatively healthy. The biggest decision I had to make was signing the forms to have a bone reset. And here this precious family was, having already had to make the choice of life or death for their child. They had to weigh quality of life, religious beliefs, family values, everything. Their worlds had been torn apart countless times. I felt guilty for ever complaining.
They crawled into bed that last evening with every intention of breakfast the next morning, thanksgiving this week, Christmas next month. They had a little girl, and I am certain they planned to always have her. But, instead they left a hospital without her. They'll have to pick out that tiny coffin. They'll listen to the hymns that will cut their souls in half. They'll hug countless people, hear thousands of times how sorry we all are, and listen to how she is resting at peace, but none of this will mend the pain. Not one condolence will bring back the regret of not reading one more bedtime story, or cuddling for 5 more minutes.
Lord, may we ever remember that life is fleeting. May we never take for granted the little things. Yes, we need to raise these precious things to be good humans, but every now and then may we splash in the puddles, get a little dirty, eat dessert first and camp out in the living room. May we hold them a little tighter, a few seconds longer, and be a tad softer. Lord, put your comforting hand in this family's life. Ease their suffering, I pray. Amen.
