Two months since my last blog entry. I’ve been finding it difficult to write, not for lack of things to talk about, but because sometimes I think the more compassionate thing to do is to keep quiet.
When a friend and neighbor of mine loses a loved one, part of me wants to make the world stop, because that’s how I felt when I lost my brother, my mother, my second child.
So I wanted, somehow, to stop a portion of my world, albeit online, for a while to honor my friend’s child who never got to see the light of day.
It was the first (and please let it be last) time I held a lifeless baby, and he was beautiful. I was alone in the morgue and I just cried. I can’t forget how, when I told the young couple about my own miscarriage: “We were going to name her Danielle…” — my friend’s eyes grew wide, as he told me that their baby’s name was Daniel, too.
It’s amazing how God sends comfort, and helps us start healing through pain. He does not leave us broken, He always gives us breadcrumbs to find our way back to wholeness.
As the year 2014 ends, many around us will be rejoicing, celebrating with family and friends. But there will be those, like my friends and the families who lost their loved ones in MH 370, MH 17 and AirAsia QZ8501, who will be spending this night differently. Their timelines are changed from “Life before this…” to “Life after…”
And so in this infinitesimal moment, I say a prayer with and for them that 2015 will bring closure, peace and eventually… joy again.
Then with a sober, grateful heart, watch the fireworks begin.