Who is at Fault for Andrew's Death?

December has been a tough month for Mark. Part of it is unknown to me but a portion seems to stem from the anniversary of Andrew's birthday.

He has been dealing with a lot of guilt. I figured he probably would but has never voiced it. If I had been home at the time, I would have blamed myself for his death. But it was good to hear Mark share that. Something I know must have been difficult to admit. I would have been quite fearful in his shoes to share that with him.

He has struggled so with this he asked me how I could continue to live with him after this. That really shocked me.

"I fear I would not have been as gentle with you as you have been with me," he also said. This is true. He probably wouldn't have. "I am surprised you  haven't blamed me for this." He even stated that, although it was an accident and really no one's fault, since he was the one responsible for Andrew's care, it was ultimately his fault.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"I have struggled with that since Andrew died." I never thought I would say that to him. I figured there would never be a "right" time. I knew it was possibly something I could never voice to him because it would only cause him more pain than good. I also knew that such a struggle within me was something that could destroy us and our family and our children. So I kept it quiet.

Shared it only with God.

No one knew.

It has been a heavy thought to bear.

Oddly, he was glad to hear that I had struggled and did not feel condemned. That was my fear. That I might blurt it out in a moment of utter frustration or anger at him for something surrounding Andrew's death. And in expressing such a dark thought that he would turn to his old vices. That our family would lay in a shambles. That we would all be ruined.

But he didn't.

We lived through this open and bare moment. We shared in a moment of total honesty and came out the other side in peace. And now the load is not as much of a burden any longer.

I still struggle with how just a few small changes could have saved his life. Just doing one thing differently, giving a different answer, having a different approach would have possibly meant that we would still have Andrew here with us.

I suppose that struggle will probably never be fully resolved. Almost like which came first, the chicken or the egg. Except this predicament is much more personally weighty to me.

I can understand why couples do not always make it through after a child dies. It is difficult. Not just the differences in grieving styles added onto the normal stresses of life. It's those unspoken things that hang there that fester in the darkness. That gather their strength and seek to burst forth at an ill-timed moment when the other is weak and vulnerable. To strike at the weak spot. To jab at the open wounds.

We have both finally been able to disarm this a bit. I have thrown down my sword and Mark is surprised.

His tendency is not really gentleness or a quiet answer to turn away anger. That is often my way.

For once I got to see its wisdom at work. And I thank God for giving me the strength to wait for the opportune moment to share the lie that has tried to deceive me regarding Mark's role in Andrew's death and bring more healing to us both. That is only His goodness shining through. His faithfulness. Grace that I do not deserve.

So who's at fault? No one. I say to the lies, no one is at fault for Andrew dying. So stop trying to make me bitter and unforgiving. Because I won't accept it.