Monday, January 26, 2009



If I could tell you exactly what happened I would...but it is a long story and a complicated one at that.

To quote Elizabeth McCracken in An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination, Elizabeth recounts a very good friend (someone who emailed her on Mother's Day to validate her motherhood) who '...missed him like a person too,
I think.'

I wish everyone would do us this one simple thing. Miss him...miss him like the person he was. Not based on the days he lived or the amount of breaths that came from his lips...not based on anything other than his humanity. He was a person...why won't people see that?

I know you didn't know him like I did, but do you see his value? Does he matter? Is he important?

Ever so quietly, in the midst of the sound of my heart breaking all over again, someone whispered in my ear....
Yes, yes he has value. He is important and special. I know him and he matters to Me.


Emily said...

I just wrote a letter to the mom's group at our church and posted it on their yahoo page. It was a way to break the ice and deal with the anxiety that keeps me too scared to go into church. One of the women wrote back and said she plans to tell her son about Desmond, who should have been his first friend. They were born only a few weeks apart. That meant so much to me, because of that reason you are talking about- she misses my son, like the person he was and was supposed to be.
I do so appreciate when people acknowledge that their lives are diminished by the death of my son.

Anonymous said...

This is my heart's cry every single day. I feel like I spend most of my life trying to help others see that Felicity was one of our children. I hate when it feels like people have forgotten about her or that she wasn't one of our "real" children.

The people who've really touched my heart in the last 16 months have been the ones who've been brave enough to be truly empathetic. The ones who mark time with me. The ones who tell me that they've been thinking about Felicity and wondering who she'd be right now. I know they miss her, and that blesses my mother's heart like nothing else.

Erin said...

One of the most meaningful things said to me after we had our first ectopic (which I know is not near as traumatic as losing Owen with one month left) was, "I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm sorry for OUR loss." Even now, as I am writing it, I cry and thank God for my aunt who entered into my pain with me.