Grief. It’s such a funny thing. You can go for days, weeks, months without it ever rearing its head.
And then, one day it pops up out of nowhere, leaving you hurt and angry and breathless all over again.
My babies. I will forever miss them, and I didn’t even know them. Hardly knew they were even there. And yet they taught me the hardest lessons I have ever learned.
And today, I sit here thinking that I will never have anything but the vague memory that they were here. That the only thing I ever gave them was a name. And though they never called me Mama, they did bring to life my Mother’s heart. Their short lives are filled with such paradoxes, the greatest being that my friends and family in Heaven know them better than I ever will while I live here on earth.
There are so many questions that I have, so many I’d love to ask that can’t be answered. But even amidst the questions and the hurt, I know this: I am thankful for their lives. I am thankful for their deaths. Not because I don’t miss them. Not because I’ve had a vision of them. I am thankful because without their deaths, Abby wouldn’t be here today. Without their deaths, I would not be the woman I am. Without their deaths, I would not be nearly so anxious for Heaven.
Yes, I am thankful. Even when I don’t understand why.