Jesus said to them, "Let the little children come to me, do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Mark 10:14



Tuesday, August 23, 2011

In Loving Memory

This morning I had an opportunity to attend a Memorial Service for a fellow "Mommy" who's baby went to heaven all too soon.  I clearly remember the phone call I received last week and the reawakening of feelings  as I was told  that this dear mommy's baby had died in her womb.  Her story sounded so similar to mine- baby died about 16 weeks, going to hospital to be induced, delivering a precious baby boy.  And here today, on a beautiful, sunny August morning we got to honor this precious baby's life, to mourn with this family and to rejoice in the precious life that was given them, if even for a short while.

It was a beautiful setting.  A glorious sunny morning with a beautiful breeze waving the branches of the trees above us.  Music softly playing.  A beautiful table set out to hold too tiny a 'box'.  Flowers with significant meaning surrounding the table- red, white, yellow, blue.  People.  Lots and lots of people there to support a mommy and daddy and to remember a precious life.  Tears.  They came naturally, as I know too well the pain that goes along with a day like today.  It seems so unfair.  Why should we have to bury a baby, our child, ahead of ourselves?  A child who never breathed a breath in this life.  One we held, yet had to let go of.  My fellow '"mommies", there to support one of us.  We all know.  We all grieve for this family, yet we also feel our own grief.  All too raw.  Wide open, split apart, tears falling. 

A beautiful service.  Daddy carrying his precious baby in a 'box' to be set before us on the table.  Speaking words, through tears, of Hope.  Mommy & Daddy, brother & sister, family placing flowers in honor of their precious baby.  Fellow "mommies" placing a white carnation in memory of our babies.  Too many mommies.  Heartbreaking.  We are not alone and yet it's not comforting to see other's who have been there.  To see even the tears of one from the funeral home, a woman who has "seen" death and worked with families numerous times, yet still touched by such a tiny life.  A butterfly flitting through the service.  I noticed that small gift, amazed.  Comforting words, words of Hope, spoken by God himself, our source of hope.  That is how we make it through.  That is how this fellow "mommy" and "daddy" can get through each day- our Hope.  Grief and tears.  Yet our Hope, He knows and He holds us.  He grieves too.  Releasing balloons.  Blue and white into a clear blue sunny sky.  Beauty.  God's gift- truly.  The release is so difficult.  Do we have to let go?  It signifies so much. 

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