I'm not sure what you call me, but I am a mother who lost a child.
I think about my grandmother who left this world, not long ago. She was in her nineties. yet said goodbye to all of her children years before her time. After I had to say goodbye to my son, I thought about Little Grandma and the anguish I know she felt in her bones. When you lose your child, you don't feel that loss in your heart; you feel it in the depths of your bones. That's not how it's supposed to be for us moms.
At Chance's memorial service, we played a slideshow that Tyler created. There were pictures of Chance with Jack Johnson singing, "Maybe this is how it's supposed to be...."
I guess so, Jack.
For some of us, this IS how it is supposed to be.
One day, someone responded to a post I'd made about Chance. She really kind of chastised me, advising me (unsolicited advice, mind you) not to allow my loss of Chance to overshadow his living twin sister. If you've met Taylor, you know that this little girl will never allow anyone or anything to overshadow her; not even her beloved Bubbie. I still have HER. I still have their older brother, Tyler. Goodness, he is 23 now! Tay is nine. Chance left us almost three months before their third birthday.
I was asked the question, when people leave you, what do they take away? I hated that question, because it is utterly negative, prompting me for a negative response. Therefore, I rephrased the question; When people leave you, what do they they leave you with? Or for you grammar snobs; with what do they leave you?
Chance left me with a strength and faith that I'd never known that I had. Maybe that's because before him, I never had to have it. He left me with a passion to share that strength and faith with others who need it- whether they realize it or not. He left me with a fierce determination to rip this pain from my heart, from my bones; to mold it into love, encouragement, and support for others during THEIR difficult journeys. And, damn it, he left me with a hole in my heart that can never be filled.
I will always miss this stinky, howling, precious little boy that my worldly heart screams belongs to me, while my Godly heart reminds me that he was never truly mine to begin with.
Who has left you? What did they leave you with?
Not what did they take from you when they left, but WHAT did they leave you WITH?
My flesh and my heart may fail but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.