Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Loss



It's been too long since I last posted. I love blogging, but I must say I haven't much been "in the mood".

Just a week and a half before Mother's Day some folks we knew many years ago lost one of their 22 year old triplets, Heath, to Cystic Fibrosis. He was a playmate of my oldest son, Ryan, during the time we attended a little church in the hills of eastern Kentucky during our 15 years in Appalachia. Even a death that is expected seems to take a person by surprise, especially the death of one so young.

And then, just a short two weeks ago, a friend of mine, Danny, that I've known for over 30 years, suffered a massive brain hemorrhage following shoulder surgery. He was pronounced brain dead on May 8, just the day before Mother's Day. Shock....surprise.....disbelief.

I first met Danny when his father came to take the pastorate of the church I grew up in and attended, from infancy, with the grandparents who raised me; he was just 6 years old at the time, I was 10. My husband and I went to see Danny on Saturday---he was being kept alive because he was an organ donor. Although he was really already gone, I wanted to see him one last time, just to say goodbye, I guess, to the body that once housed his spirit. Through his beautiful and generous gift, at least 16 families or individuals have either a more happy, healthy life or have been given more time with their loved one.

Mother's Day was bittersweet this year. I was immensely happy to be celebrating the wonder and joy of being a mother to my three sons, but also hurting for the two mothers I know who are grieving the loss of a son. I can't imagine a pain more real, more intense, than that.





Although I have been deeply saddened over these two losses, I have also been reminded of just how important it is to love my own family, my boys, in tangible ways; to tell them I love them and to show them I love them. I can't just take it for granted that they already know, which I'm sure they do, but they still need to hear my voice telling them and experience my actions showing them. A huge part of my job as a parent is to be love for my children, to be that place of solace and comfort that they can come to when they need it, that they can always count on, that they can recall in a real and even palpable way when I am gone and they can no longer feel my touch or hear my voice.

To my dear fellow mothers, Betsy and Pat: May your God comfort you in a way that only He can as you grieve the loss of your beloved sons.

To Heath and Danny: Fly free now, far above the pain and hurt, beyond the sun and the moon and the stars, to that new world that welcomes you with open arms. Be at rest, for now you truly know the peace that passes all understanding.

Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality. ~Emily Dickinson