Sunday, August 03, 2008

Still in disbelief

It was a heavy morning in church today. No one really knew what to say or do. It was agonizing dropping off Marc-Adam in his class knowing his little friend wouldn't be there anymore. People were gathering in the halls outside the nursery, crying. Parents and nursery workers were extra sweet with the kids, all of whom were too young to even know what happened, much less understand it.

My heart breaks for what my friend must be going through right now. I can't even wrap my mind around that kind of pain. It's so unnatural. I guess I'm feeling a little bit of survivor's guilt, wondering what separates me and this baby's mother that she's been dealt this overwhelming hand. Her heart will never recover. And I get to kiss all of my babies tonight.

I've also been feeling a little bit frantic when the kids are out of my sight. Last night, as I went to bed, I panicked a bit because I felt like I couldn't be watchful if I fell asleep, that I wouldn't know it if something horrible happened. I felt the same way when dropping the kids off at nursery and Sunday School because as much as they're well-cared for there, strange weird things happen all the time. All these awful "what-ifs" kept streaming through my head. It's like I realize that I have a whole lot less control over what happens to my kids. I've been praying more than ever today for the health and safety of my children. I pray for that every night with them, but now I find myself almost begging God to spare me from that nightmare.

Experiencing the death of a child has got to be the worst kind of suffering there is. It affects everyone who has ever had contact with that child, or any child, for that matter. It makes every moment shorter and finite. And all the things that we think about and do and obsess about seem trivial. Nothing else really matters except that I made sure when my kids went to bed tonight that they knew that they are wonderful creations of God and that they are safe and loved and special. Everything else just fades away. I guess that's the blessing that comes out of an unimaginable tragedy like this. People are more real. They re-prioritize. Life is lived better. Too bad we can't all figure that out before something like this happens.

1 comment:

Mommy Daisy said...

Your feelings are beautifully stated. This makes me feel so sad, and I don't even know the family. It does give you a fresh perspective. What a tragedy.