I have so many blog posts started, thought of, and left unfinished. This post came to me today and rang true, but I now have a new canyon. I have a new self and reality to merge. Just when I felt like I was constructing a bridge between my pre and post Caleb death selves, my lovely Alice was born. I’m so profoundly blessed and love her beyond words. I’m thrilled she is a part of our family.
Now, I need to figure out how to mother a babe after burying one. I need to figure out how to help her know her big brother without dwelling on him too much. I need to figure out how to be social in groups, leave the house more, and not have it all exhaust me. I need to figure out how to help some of my children fully bond with her because they’re “afraid she’ll die too” and they “just can’t do that again, it’s too hard, it hurts too much”. I need to figure out how to ease all our fears without dismissing them. I need to keep my own heart open, even knowing the risk and pain that can come with that. Yet, I know I can. It’ll take faith, prayer, and a lot of patience (mostly with myself).
So, I begin again.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
This has been the phrase that has haunted me since Caleb died. At first, I didn’t like thinking of him as lost because my faith told me exactly where he was. His physical body was buried, but all he is and was lives on and waits for me with our Father in Heaven.
On more agitated days, I felt angry at the “your” part. It left me with a feeling that this vibrant, energetic, loving little boy no longer being physically here was only a loss to me, to my family. Why wasn’t it “our” loss? Why wasn’t it a collective loss for all humanity? For the world? Why couldn’t everyone feel that our future existence was left less bright without him in it?
Then, I just started to accept it for what it is, a sympathetic platitude when you don’t know what else…
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