To You with Empty Arms
You will never look back on life and think, “I spent too much time with my kids.”
Unknown
Before you begin reading today, I would just ask you to study the above picture. It’s the good ole’ 80’s florals and fringe on the umbrella. Most likely a new little red wagon. I say new because we had that wagon up until last year! (a good 40 years!) My parents have an inflatable pool and shovels ready, and it also looks like they have the bag packed for the day. My brother on the other hand doesn’t seemed to convinced on this sand and sun thing. However, if you know my brother he is up for a new adventure, he is just checking it all out. And probably wondering where his little cars are, which I am sure are in his wagon.
I love this picture because it encompasses many things about being a kid. New experiences: sights, sounds, and senses. The staples of a good day at the beach: umbrella, wagon, shovels, and somewhere to make a little cool off spot. I see discovery, exploring, an abundance of life lessons all about to emerge, for my brother and my parents.
Last week I wrote to the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, children, siblings, school folks.
This week I want to write to the moms and dads, the grandparents, the siblings, the aunts, the uncles, and all who grieve little ones.
To those who long for a little one more than anything. To those who wait for your profile to be chosen. I see you. I’ve been in a similar, but not identical pair of shoes. (nobody wears identical pairs of shoes in these situations) All my life I just wanted to be a Mommy, and if that came with a husband, that would be great! I can’t ever really remember having a desire for anything more. I just wanted to be a mommy, I never really thought much about being linked by blood- I just wanted to be a mommy. Jesus knew all along – adoption was going to be how it would happen. The wait is difficult, but the reward is out of this world amazing!
To those who have had little ones and now your arms are empty. To those who have come so close to holding a little one, but never had the chance to. I see you too. The grief ebbs and flows, somedays it’s a tsunami and somedays its just a little drizzle, but its always there. Don’t deny it. Share their names, share their stories, your story!
To those who have had children for many years, but have had to watch them run ahead of you, I see you. You will have some of the following memories, but that doesn’t make the loss of future memories any less hard.
To all of you, I see you, I am with you in the emptiness that the sights of this season brings… the moments and the times we won’t have with our little ones…
the excitement of recitals: getting ready, practicing, being a stage parent, getting the outfits or costumes, making sure you have flowers or a small token of celebration
the graduations: the mile markers of school and the celebrations that come with these times
the sound of a ice cream truck and pitter patters of little feet scrambling to get there and knowing what their favorite treat is
the disarray of toys in the yard, a sign that children live here and are allowed to PLAY
the overflowing bag or bucket of pool and beach toys that seem to disappear every year and have to be rebought each year
the trips planned with kids in mind- where they would like to go, what they would want to do and see, places you wanted to take them
all the fun clothes for summer – swimsuits… pjs…
the life lessons that come along the way – learning to pack a bag, learning how to explore, finding new places and trying new things, navigating roads
laughter and conversations that happen on road trips, that only your family can remember and relate to
pulling them in a wagon through the farmers market or a local festival
buying a little plastic pool for them to splash in
endlessly running out of breath while blowing up inflatables
water wings
picnics
jumping in puddles
front porch sitting
watching wild life
swinging
there are many things that I see and think, “what would Lucy be doing?” “Would Lucy have liked to go there?” I must allow myself to think these thoughts, and you do too! I also hope and pray that you have someone in your life that you can talk about these “wonderings” to. If you don’t, I strongly recommend you find someone or start journaling them. I have found that both help! Also, I love snail mail also, so I write cards to Lucy many times when I have been somewhere, and want to tell her about it. (sometimes I mail postcards back home if I’m away. But most I write and keep in a special place.) Parents, Siblings, Grandparents, aunts, uncles- everybody can do this! Honestly, I believe this would be a huge encouragement to parents (and grandparents!) who need to know our children are remembered by name. I have been blessed to have people around me to remember to say AND write Lucy’s name, and every time I am overjoyed!!!
We can be thankful and sad, we can celebrate the moments we had and grieve the ones we will not have. Most importantly, to the ones who have had to let their little ones go, you more than allowed to shed a tear at the sound of an ice cream truck. Shed those tears on the seasonal aisles at the store. Because your child MATTERS! And if you are anything like me, somedays tears flow, and the next day I can’t cry but I laugh and can’t stop… and that is when I know I have a GOOD GOOD FATHER, who created us and knows exactly what is happening in our brains to have these reactions, for this I am grateful! He allowed my little one to thrive for 6 months without knowing she basically only had a brain stem! And she giggled and smiled and cried… And so I will too!
To you who grieve a child, I am with you. You are not alone.
Life book of the week: Holding onto Hope, by Nancy Guthrie
