February 11, 2016
I never imagined what it would be like to lose a child. Who wants to imagine that? How horrible.
When people say, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” I say, “Don’t even try to. You don’t want to know this pain.” I don’t want to know it either.
I try to talk to the kids about Delia Grace and just see where they are, what questions they have, etc. I asked them, “Where is Delia Grace?” Liam (age 2) said, “Sleeping.” Isaac (age 4), face beaming, said, “She’s with Jesus.” Michael (age 5), “She’s in heaven. I know that’s a fact.” All true.
Yet, there is no peace. There is no acceptance. I don’t even know what that means. I’m never going to say, “I’m okay with her dying.” I’m never going to think it’s the right thing for me. I didn’t want her to die. I want her to be alive, growing up with our family. I wanted her. I loved her. I still want her. I still love her.
I am faithful, but I have fears. Will another of my children be taken from me?
I want God to know that I believe. I accept that this is His will. Still, it’s still not what I want for my life or hers. I miss her so badly. I just want to hold her, feel her, smell her. I will always want that. I love her. She is my heart.