The pulsing silence in my ears is synchronized to the bioluminescent firefly conversations in the trees. The weight upon my chest is heavy as I marvel at their splendor from my parked car. I am numb, and not quite sure what to do with myself, recoiling from the sadness that exploded into misplaced anger. I drive on, cringing at the memory of the blue vinyl chairs in that small little room tucked off to the side of the teal- and tan-tiled hallway. Many people, exhausted with worry had sat in those chairs in close proximity to the doctors and surgeons of their little girl or boy. Those four small walls have been audience to a sad collection of difficult conversations. It had been exactly 365 days, down to the very second, since William and I were in that room. It may as well have been yesterday; my hands gripped the steering wheel, my eyes angrily blinked away the mutiny of tears. All the “should haves” and “if onlys” threatened to latch tightly onto my thoughts, siphoning me of my peace. I shrug them off with a wince; my foot pressing the accelerator.
It had dawned on me that morning, as a merciless punch in the gut, that June 2nd was really Nora’s last full day. June 3, 2014 had only known her for an hour and a half. As I drove, I remembered how we had stayed awake through the darkness of the early morning hours, on into the first hints of daylight. We took turns holding and cradling the 25 pounds of sweetness she had left behind, marveling over her and memorizing her angelic little features. No more tubes, no more wires, no more alarms. How dared the sun come up without her?!?!
There is no way to fix the hurt, adjust the pain to make it more comfortable, or to make any of it go away. It ebbs and it flows, always there, yet pacified by the ever-presence of the Holy Spirit. I KNOW I will see her again, but I miss her. What a beautiful little life, precious little soul who I had the absolute honor of being Mother to. Seven hundred and seventy-seven cherished days that I will never, ever, ever forget.
And so the sun came up again this morning for the 365th time without her. Our hearts, they hurt, but they are also so full of the love that was left behind by a sweet little baby girl named Nora. Thank you, God for her beautiful, MIGHTY little life!
Also a huge thank you to our beloved family and friends who have come along beside us to carry this heavy burden of grief with us. A special thank you to Nila M., who has gone out of her way to covertly leave a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies on our front porch, or just a little something to let us know she was thinking about and praying for us. Without fail, on the 3rd of every single month over this past year she would bless us and put happy tears in my eyes with her kindness and generosity. What a beautiful example to me about what it truly means to be God’s hands and feet. THANK YOU, Nila!
Thank you, prayer warriors for all of your treasured comments and heart winks, for all of your texts, phone calls and emails today and yesterday. We feel so very loved and comforted by all of the lives our sweet Nornor touched. God bless each of you!
So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.
(Philippians 2:1-5 ESV)