Someone I know of lost their daughter recently. I don't know this lady well. I have never met her daughter, but ever since finding out this news I haven't been the same. I know the loss of your child. I know that this woman likely lays awake at night crying, if she gets to sleep she is only greeted by nightmares. I know that there will be some mornings when she will wake, enumerate the list of things to be done, forgetting to add 'grieving' to the list. Then she will remember. Her breath will be taken away. The pain in her heart will return. Her face will be wet with tears.
I hate that this lady will know the painful details of preparing a funeral. For instance, did you know that child-sized coffins are special order? I did. But she will also know that hopes and dreams die. For the rest of her life she will see a blonde child about the age of her daughter and think what-if? She will watch her friends children go to first grade, learn to ride a bike, lose teeth, and play sports. She will wonder what her daughter would be like as a high schooler, college student, a young woman, a mother.
It doesn't make things easier for me now that the twins anniversary is just 17 days away. I have those same questions for my sons. Would they have been brainy or into sports? Would they have been best friends or constantly fighting? How much fun they would have had with Connor - just 13 months apart? I will never know those answers. I will always have questions and tears. The questions will be less frequent and the tears will be fewer. I will cry into my pillow or the soapy water while I am doing dishes instead of crying at church or with friends. I will become a closet griever - each time I see twin boys or hear of a mother recklessly working until her 38th week when pregnant with multiples.
It won't be okay and it will never be the same again.