I often cringe when I hear the words,
"We lost a child".
I don't mean to offend anyone,
but the truth is, I have not lost my
daughter.
I know exactly where she is - she
is in Heaven, with Jesus.
Though she is not here, with her
earthly family, she is near by, with her
heavenly Father.
I'm sure it would be difficult
for some to understand my attitude
concerning the little one that we love
and miss so much, but my question to
those would be, "Do you know my
Jesus?"
Our daughter, Molly, died on April 11,
1999.
She was exactly 9 months old.
I know this seems a little old
for a child to die from SIDS, but that's
what happened.
Actually, SIDS can affect infants
up to one year of age.
The chance of a child 9 months
old dying from SIDS is 7%.
She just happened to be in a very
small minority.
I will say this, though.
As strange as it may seem, I get
a small amount of comfort from the fact
the my daughter did not suffer a
debilitating disease, or suffer at the
hands of a stranger.
She simply fell asleep, and never
woke up.
For me, the alternatives are
unthinkable.
Our daughter was different and unique.
She was the kind of baby that
could touch a heart in an instant, and
you would never forget the pleasure you
had in meeting her.
I often said that she had an old
soul, for one so young.
It has been 5 years since she
went home, but we miss her still today.
We have had 3 other children
since then, making our grand total 7.
I think one of the hardest questions for
a parent who has had a child die is,
"How many children do you
have"?
When Molly first died, and I
would be out somewhere with my other
children, people would often ask this of
me.
I would feel a sudden panic come
over me, because I didn't know how to
answer that question without a long
explanation, or an emotional outburst.
So, I came up with this strategy:
if I met a person that I knew I
would be seeing frequently, I would
quietly explain to them that I have 6
children, 5 living, and one in
heaven--if it was a person at the
grocery store, or somewhere like that,
whom I knew I would never see again, I
would answer that I have 5 children.
It took a long time for me to get
over the guilt of feeling that I had
somehow slighted Molly, but in my heart
I knew that this would be easiest for
me.
We have worked hard to put our lives
back together since Molly died.
When you have other children, I
think it helps.
They still need their parents,
and they need help understanding about
death.
They may need help dealing with
the anger some kids feel when a sibling
has died.
Our family turned to the only
sources of comfort we were certain of:
our faith, our families, our
church, our God.
We began to look for a new normal
to live our lives by.
The old normal was buried with
our daughter, so we started over.
It was the only thing to do.
We went through all of the
firsts:
birthday, Thanksgiving,
Christmas, Mother's Day, Father's Day,
anniversary of her death.
And we came out on the other
side.
Stronger in our family, stronger
in our belief that the Lord will take
care of us.
We have not finished the grieving
process.
Does anyone ever?
One of the hardest things for me
was when my memories of her began to
fade.
I could always hear her sweet,
little voice so clearly.
Then one day I confused it with
the sound of the baby we had after she
died.
I was devastated to think that it
was possible, but it was.
The old cliché that time heals
all wounds is true, but it also affects
the memory.
I thought I would have a sound
track of her for all time, but I didn't.
I can still remember the things
we did, but it is her voice I miss most
now.
I felt incredibly guilty when
this first happened, but I realize that
it was inevitable.
Because time and life move on.
The things I do remember are even
that much more important to me.
I hold them tightly, for fear
that one day they too may be gone.
And if that should happen, I know
I will manage it also.
Really, what choice do we have?
My spirit is not to hide under a
blanket and let others take care of me
while I silently and quietly fall apart.
It is to face each new day with
The Lord in my heart, and his spirit in
my soul.
These things, along with the love
of my husband and children, are the
ultimate gifts in my life.
I treasure each one, because I am
fully aware that in the blink of an eye,
they could be gone.
I want my family to know how much
I love them, so I try to take the time
each day to make sure that they feel my
love.
I want my Lord to know that I
love him, so I pray each day and ask him
to help me get through this 24 hours.
Time is short, and if we live our lives
thinking that there will always be more,
we could be in trouble.
When the time comes for the Lord
to call me home, I will see my precious
girl again.
I will look into her face and
remind her of my love.
I will see The Lord, face to
face, and feel his love for me as never
before.
Is it possible that you are
wasting time?
I ask again, "Do you know my
Jesus?"
If you don't, you can.
If you are not certain that you
will see your sweet child again, please
don't waste any more time.
You can correct that mistake.
It is as simple as a short
prayer, telling Jesus that you love him,
you know that you are a sinner, you know
that he died on the cross to save you,
and asking him to please come live in
your heart.
With just this little prayer,
and your heartfelt honesty when
you prayed, you can assure yourself of
the joyous reunion with your little one.
This is what makes the difference
for me.
My prayer is that will make the
difference for you, also.
By:
Tammy Hardin
