Anne Lamott
Ten years ago, I lost my dad to cancer. It was the worst pain I've really ever felt in my life. I knew the time was coming, it wasn't a complete shock, but I still wasn't ready for that day. I was surrounded by by brother and sister in law, so I wasn't alone in the heartache. My brother and I were losing the same person, so we both kind of knew how each other was feeling. The very moment that my father drew his last breath, my sister in law was hugging me. There was really nothing to say, but that hug felt nice.
In the minutes, hours, days, weeks that followed, my brother and I traded "Dadisms" back and forth as a way to comfort each other, or to provide a chuckle in the ebbs and flows of grief. It helped.
In the years that have followed my father's death, my brother and sister in law have faced heartbreak after heartbreak in terms of their family. Infertility issues--->two miscarriages--->the death of their firstborn--->death of their fourth born....it's all just too much.
I remember when we were burying Fourth. I looked over at Joe and Melissa and seeing them grieve, and seeing my brother sob, it was gut wrenching. There was nothing to say or do to make this grief any easier. But I was there.
This week, they have had to walk down the road that is unfortunately all too familiar. Losing another child. It's just too much. My heart aches for them, and with them.
My brother posted updates this week to keep everyone up to speed. There was a weighty statement within a post that just broke my heart: "Melissa has been pregnant six times. She will have delivered four times, we have two living children. My family feels terribly incomplete." I tell you, when I read this, I cried. I so wish I was physically present to give Joe the biggest hug humanly possible. His family of children feels incomplete, just as my family of nieces and nephews feels incomplete. I have tearfully prayed and told God that this just isn't fair.
Yesterday, it was like I heard Him answer with, "I never said it was, or that it would be. I just promised that they'd (you'd) never walk alone." I'm so thankful for that Blessed Assurance. It's still crappy, if I'm honest about it.
There are four Dentici babies being cradled at Jesus' breast right now, and in the midst of heartbreak, that mental image is comforting.
The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.
Thy will be done. Amen
