There can be so much build up to big events.
Months, sometimes years, of planning and anticipation before a wedding. Anticipation and celebration at retirement. And of course, those milestone birthdays – generally ones ending in ‘0’ or ‘5’.
And funerals… Sometimes there is long planning before a funeral too. This can be a blessing and it can be excruciatingly painful. This waiting for a loved one to die. Watching and waiting… and witnessing.
And what of the day after? It’s always an adjustment, isn’t it. Getting back into ‘regular’ life, or the new normal, be it a happier one or one that is more empty. Sometimes it’s a relief to have the attention finally shifted elsewhere. Sometimes it becomes very lonely.
Today is the day after. Not so much for me as for my friend. It’s the day after her baby girl died… five years and a day after. Her life is not empty, at least not completely. There are sisters and brothers for her to mother, a husband to love and a life to live. And she does all this and more – amazingly and incredibly and so full of love and God that it humbles me to witness it.
I am a country away. She is my friend because of her daughter… because of my son. And because of a million other reasons which I could list but won’t because right now they don’t matter… because it all comes back to this. Always comes back to this.
Our babies died.
And what God has done with the rest of the story is too much for words right now. Too incredible, awe-full, awe-filled, inspired, heaven-sent, from the depths of the heart too much.
But today I offer this… I remember. I see the flowers that bloom for her birthday and I remember. I look at the dates on the calendar and I remember.
But most of all, I know that this pain is best shared… especially on the day after.
With love ~ love for both the baby I never met, and for her incredible Mama ~