Thursday, October 22, 2015

31 Days of Grief: Day 22

I stood chatting with this cute young couple about their adorable little daughter, the sweet baby nestled lovingly in her mommy's arms.  She seemed to be about seven months and was wearing a lacy pink dress with a matching floral headband.  Cutie pie.  

The couple asked me if I had any kids.  I answered yes, a boy and a girl, ages four and one.   
"That's a good age gap."  The dad said, glancing at his wife's growing belly.

"Yeah, these two are only going to be thirteen months apart."  The sweet mama patted her middle gently. 

This whole interchange knocked the wind out of me.  I could hardly respond intelligently.  They probably thought I was crazypants for staring at them without speaking.  I just didn't know what to say.  My thoughts were reeling ...

A good age gap.  Except there was one in between.

Thirteen months apart.  Yeah, that's close.  Jocelyn and Charlie would only have been fifteen months apart.  Two small babies to snuggle.  It would have been crazy but wonderful, no doubt.

Luckily Josh walked up moments later and the conversation turned.  Hopefully I didn't seem as fruit-loopy as I felt.

Conversations like that are hard.  It's something I still haven't gotten used to, not in the almost three years since Evie left us.  I always feel like I'm lying a little or betraying two special members of my family if I leave them out.  And I know that I've spoken out about speaking out on that subject - answering truthfully to strangers about my children no matter how it changes the mood of the conversation.  But after an experience where I answered truthfully to a grocery store cashier about how many children I had and then broke down so hard that she came out from behind her cash register to hug me, I decided I needed to rethink my strategy.
(ps ... I love what this post says regarding speaking out about hard things).  

So anyway, it's just hard.  I think it's part of the wound that never really heals after losing a child.  

But not just losing a child.  I know there are some of you reading this who feel pain over not being able to regularly speak about a parent, spouse, sibling, friend.  

So here's to a heaven where we won't only get to speak about these loved ones, we'll get to be with them.  Three cheers for that day <3 

1 comment:

  1. I think this is big part of the "no more pain" of Heaven... mind, body or heart. I say, "We have two children at home." That feels truer at this moment. It's so hard.