I think all the time about what might of been or should of been. The hardest thing about losing a child is not the grief....not the pain....but the loss of the future. The future filled with what could of been...or should of been, at least in my opinion.
One of my favorite might of been's is to imagine a day with her. My very own day to ask the questions I need answers to. A day to fold her in my arms and not let go.
I think of her with all of her beautiful hair and smiling face....looking up at me with a huge smile as she slips her tiny warm hand into mine. The chirp of her cute voice as she sees something exciting and exclaims loudly " look at the daddy!". The happiness it brings to my heat to see her so excited over something that I take for granted.
I think of us walking together down a leaf strewn trail, the sun warm on our backs as its light dapples the ground as we walk under the trees. Her smiling face as she points out colorful flowers in shades so colorful as to give life to the very air around them. The hum of life through the forest that enters your mind and heart and lets you feel that any thing is possible. That life is bounding around you and sharing its energy leaving you refreshed and invigorated.
A stream rustling through the forest lends harmony to the rustle of the leaves. A worn log rests next to the water and makes the perfect chair for us to sit on....the heat on our backs and the refreshing breezes wafting up from the stream.
And most importantly we talk....a talk that would last until I had finally allowed all the questions and answers that I needed to spill out. The meaning of it all....I would tell her how I missed her, how I would never forget her, and how I would spend my life loving her sisters and mother. Making sure they were taken care of and loved as I loved her
I would ask other questions to....questions that I don't want to know the answer to but need to ask. I would ask if she would forgive me for turning off the machine that was keeping her alive. Ask if she would forgive me for weeping as she died and I held her in my arms. Ask her if she could forgive me for telling her it was ok to let go and that she didn't have to hurt anymore. And finally for not keeping my word to keep her safe from harm.
I know in my heart that my little roo would forgive me all this and more, but sometimes it's easier to know that someone would forgive you if only you could forgive yourself.
Love you as always Ivy
Daddy
Justin,
ReplyDeleteI know that although we are cousins, I seem like little more than a name that holds some vague familiarity- an unfortunate side effect of such a large and spread out family. I am sorry to say that I was not even made aware of your tremendous loss until this summer when I was gathered with family for grandpa's funeral. Regardless of being almost-strangers, my heart went out to you, and I felt true sorrow for that you were given this loss to bear. I struggled with the appropriate way to reach out to you, given the geography, time lapsed....and our unique family dynamics. So I went to the only place I knew to go....to the Lord in prayer, asking for his tender mercies to find you and your family as you find your way in this.
Thank you so much for sharing this part of you, I was truly touched. YOU are an amazing father and the love for your children is very apparent. Please know that in the distant mid-west there is a little house, with some almost-strangers, who hold you in their hearts and keep you in their prayers.
Love,
Ashley