That is what happens when a child dies. We have a beautiful, happy family, then the bottom drops out. The moment it happens we are catapulted into chaos and shock. Nothing will ever be right again … or at least not the same.
Grief becomes our life. For a while we stumble along like we are in a dark cave, and then, little by little, light comes in. For moments we are released from the heart gripping, breath taking grief, but then we stumble again.
Nothing will ever be like it once was, but what we now are, and what we now have is our life—full of purpose, and yes joy. We are here to walk through the door with new grieving parents, grandparents, and siblings. To hold them up when they fall. To watch them walk their path, to laugh and cry. To get to know their beautiful child, to share our hearts.
I never thought spring would come again, but it is here, and so is Mandy.
Our daughter Amanda was always very positive about her future … and what I mean is that she knew what was happening to her, and where she was going. Very rarely did she cry and complain about her situation. She knew she was dying, and she knew where she was going. I got so much strength from her, I only hope I gave her some comfort.
Do you ever have moments where suddenly something you have pondered over and over suddenly becomes very clear? An Aha moment. I had one the other day as I was riding back from Melbourne to Harmony. More in a minute.
When my Gardenia bushes start to bloom I know summer is not far away. It’s been a little cool, so they are a little slow—but they are beautiful. I have them everywhere in the house, and the smell is delightful. However, my allergies aren’t happy!