I didn’t want to go.
I mean I REALLY didn’t want to go.
I didn’t have to go.
But I felt like I needed to and part of me wondered how I would feel if I was in their shoes.
So….I went.
I walked in the church doors to see 3 tables lined up in a row, all displaying the usual paraphernalia that comes with raising little boys. A pair of cowboy boots, toy cars and tractors – covered in dirt, a teddy bear; and finally – lots and lots of pictures.
My eyes welled up with tears because I was looking at a table full of moments and memories that use to fill the life of a 5-year-old boy named Alex. What a sweet little boy. I didn’t know him well, but I knew his grandparents and my heart couldn’t help but ache as I thought about my own little boys and how those items could very well have belonged to one of them.
My mind raced during the ceremony, trying too hard to stifle the sobs that were pushing past my lungs and into my throat. This wasn’t MY child lying the coffin, those weren’t HIS toys – but it didn’t matter one bit because a child’s life had ended and the pain of that reality is piercing no matter the connection.
Alex’s Dad spoke at the funeral – he said what he loved most was being able to experience all the “firsts” with his son. He loved to see Alex’s eyes light up as he learned how to do something new or discovered something he’d never known before.
Alex’s Grandparents spoke and echoed what everyone had said, that he was “spilling over” with joy and happiness. He made everyone smile, he was a helper and he will be missed.
As the service ended the organ began to play the song “You Are My Sunshine”. At that moment the most harsh, unjust reality met me square in the face. The words to the song were ringing in my ears but my eyes were watching them push a small coffin out the church doors with the family following behind. The women began almost moaning out loud – their grief consuming them.
I had to leave – I couldn’t take it anymore.
I went home and hugged my kids – I hugged them until they squirmed out of my grasp. I needed that reminder, I needed a punch in the gut to understand what TREASURES I hold in my arms.
The moments we share with our kids are fleeting and can be easily forgotten – but they are the most precious moments we could ever be given.
The memories we capture RIGHT NOW as we watch our children play, grow and learn are fleeting and easily forgotten – but we are charged with the responsibility to never forget and to always appreciate them.
As a mother I can’t imagine the long nights that Alex’s mom, stepmother and grandmas are experiencing. Each morning is a reminder of the loss that has come into their family.
But I think as Moms we are some of the strongest, most capable and most determined beings ever created. Moms have a tough job. We spend our days working REALLY hard to get little people prepared to leave us – what a task!
As Moms we have to remember that our children are a gift – they really don’t belong to us – we’re just borrowing them. God created them, He will use them and in the end He will give them more love, peace and joy than we ever could have provided.
So tonight I’m going to bed with a heavy heart – but it is full of hope that no matter what tragedy or unknown might come into my life I will always have these moments and memories with my kids. I hope as their mom I can be an example of what it means to live for something greater than me, greater than them and greater than this physical life.
Hebrews 6:19 says: “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” With God as our anchor we can stand firm and secure, no matter what comes our way.
Your sister in Christ,
Kasey
smarter moms 