The Other Grieving Couple

Four months ago right now we were saying our good-byes to Andrew. The hospital we were at has a woman who donates her services as a photographer to capture mementos of last moments with loved ones. She offered to photograph our little one with his hands in ours and other meaningful things like that. The picture above is one of those. Mark with his hand on his Bible and Andrew's hand laid on his. I like to pretend he reached up and took daddy's hand for one last time. That's what it looks like happened. But Mark placed it there as he sobbed and doubled over. So precious. So painful.

And last night I held in my arms a baby girl that is 5 months old. Alive. Full of life. Drooling like crazy and wanting to practice standing on your lap. I had dropped off some dishes that they had brought a meal over to us in and me and the boys walk/biked to their home last night. We enjoyed the beautiful evening, the fresh air and the beautiful colors of the leaves.

This family was a huge blessing to us when we lost Andrew. Some of a handful that really just came along side us and asked how they could help. We were only acquaintances at that point. And their baby was only a month old. And they blessed us richly with food, babysitting, strength and prayer while we walked dazed through that first week forcing ourselves to live for the sake of our other children.

So I often their infant daughter and marvel at her growth. And I can never not think of Andrew. Where he was in development. She is about ready to pass his age and developmental level and it hit me in an odd way as I held her last night. Meanwhile, the mom and I enjoyed a few moments of grown-up adult, women talk as our kids played together outside.

She asked how I was doing with, you know. And I told her that since the move, the grief is more present. I don't have a million things to do all at once anymore or a goal of this huge life event called buying a home and moving to look to. So naturally, I am struggling a bit and am finding it hard at times. She was not surprised and just spoke kind words to me about it.

Her husband was nearby and mentioned the couple that lost their son around the same time we lost Andrew. You see, their son was 21 and died by jumping into the river. And, by their own admission, they did not have a faith in God. I imagine in this situation they were probably really questioning God, His Plan and His goodness. So they did not have that faith to draw upon for strength and hope during this time like Mark and I did. I can't imagine. It was so awful losing Andrew. So painful. And you wonder why but my goodness, losing your child who is a young adult who decides to end their own life, that is a whole different matter altogether. Regardless of whether you believe in God or not that's a tough pill to swallow. And make it a bit harder to deal with.

He mentioned them because I was talking about our struggle with dealing with the grief and the loss and all the pain. And he shared that the husband of the couple, who is his friend and coworker, just returned to work. It's been about 4 months for them too and he just returned to work. That amazed me. Wow. This was hitting them REALLY hard. I felt such sympathy for them.

He described that his friend shared that they pretty much didn't get out of bed that first month. They're on medication so that they can deal with the depression. But it's a huge struggle for them. Very difficult. Very painful. Devastating. This saddened me greatly.

I hesitated and then thought about that mother. How much she hurt that her son was gone now. And how much she needs someone to talk to. Although she didn't necessarily want to talk but she was hurting and might like to know that someone else knows the path she's walking. So I told him that he could feel free to pass on my contact information in case the wife would want to call me to talk since we both lost sons. Different circumstances completely but still a child. Still a son. I don't know if I can handle that but I felt so bad for them that I wanted to make sure that they knew that I would talk to them if it would help. Well, I anticipate I'll more listen than talk. They don't need to hear any insight I may think I have on the situation. It's not like I've figured this all out or am the model griever. The listening thing is needed and great right now. No commentary necessary. Just someone to listen is good. Say they care. Remind you they are there no matter what you're thinking and feeling without saying if they are thinking of feeling wrong. Because that's the last thing she needs or that anyone needs when they're grieving. I can at least understand a bit of the grief they are experiencing. And tell her that. Maybe she's even felt and thought some similar things and I can say that too.



And then I hear about how this couple is coping. Their struggle and pain. And I feel so sad for them. A part of me wishes I could take away at least part of their pain. But I am powerless to do that. But I know One who is not powerless to comfort and bring peace. So Lord, You know better than anyone what they need. Comfort them as only You can and give them the strength to keep going. Heal in the way that only You can.