in faraway California a Mama and Daddy say goodbye to their girl. Their home has gone from a place of joyful toddler noise to one of silence. It is a pain that I both cannot imagine and yet fear. It is a pain I hope to never feel and yet reading about the loss of this sweet girl, the pain resonates through my bones and I feel the emptiness of their arms as acutely as if they were mine.
Littlebit sleeps in my lap, her dark hair spread out across the arm of the chair, her cheeks pink with sleep. Her knees are curled up towards her chest, her hands relaxed in sleep. I consider the emptiness her absence would bring to us and my heart actually hurts. It aches and it aches for the Mama and Daddy so far away from their baby girl; for their empty laps and empty arms and empty bed and quiet house.
I read back the archives of their blog and the tears course down my face, soaking my neck and my shirt and parts of Littlebit. Sorrow over what they lost and what never will be for them. Sending a condolence message seems so small and useless. The donation I sent off to March of Dimes in honor of sweet Maddie seems almost trite, so small in relation to the pain her parents are wading through. My only hope is that they draw comfort for the people who are whispering their little girls name under their breath, who are crying tears for them, who feel their pain, whether they’ve experienced it or not. That they find comfort in the clumsy prayers for peace and healing and that those prayers help in some small way and that the knowledge that her smile and eyes are written on other people’s hearts
Today, I will hold Littlebit tight. I will whisper tearful prayers into her hair for the Mama and Daddy so far away have to do the thing I dread the very most. Peace be with you, Heather and Mike.