Tuesday, October 27, 2009


Just the day's emotions in a nutshell.

I kinda thought I was going to have to call Peyton get him to go steal me some Xanax from the pharmacy this morning.

Last night, we did a bunch of errands and then headed to Peyton's parents house. The errands were either "drive through" type things (i.e. the Walgreens) or places where one of us (me) just ran in while the other circled, so we wouldn't have to unload AP (laziness admitted, friends). Anyway, we pull up in Peyton's parents driveway and she is sleeping and Peyton goes to get her out. "Oh gosh, Sweetie, come look." Yeah, no part of the five point harness was buckled. Peyton and I had both assumed the other one did it. I kind of gasped, but I really didn't freak out (surprisingly). I've read/heard that most parents do this at least once. It sucks, but nothing happened. Well, when we got home and I started to settle down from our whirlwind day, the possibilities started running through my mind. Here's where I need to flash back a little.....

My senior year of high school included one of the hardest months of my life. It was definitely the first experience I had with grief and one of the two most poignant experiences with it that I've ever had. I had two really hard situations that happened within two weeks of one another. Both involved car accidents. Both involved young people. And both involved death.

This particular year I had volunteered to help teach the two year old Sunday School class. I felt like I had outgrown youth Sunday School, but was insecure about joining the young adults class. I loved helping with the two year olds and I have so many precious memories. And so many painful ones. One of the two year olds in my class was a darling little boy. He didn't come every Sunday, but he was adorable and was a little spit fire. His momma was so pretty and so sweet. She was pregnant and in the middle of a messy divorce. I wish I had gotten a chance to know him better.

One afternoon after school, I was at TumbleCheer, a gym in Brandon with our then youth minister, Steve. I was having a stunting lesson--the only part of cheerleading I really loved. About halfway through the lesson, his wife called him. She told him that the little boy and his mother had been in a car accident. The momma was in the hospital. That's all anybody knew. He left immediately. The funeral for her son was the same week. He had crawled out of his car seat and she was almost home when the accident occurred. The day of the funeral was horrible. Seeing the baby casket and his beautiful pregnant mother by herself, save her older daughter, was heartbreaking. Finding out that her soon to be ex husband was filing charges against her for the accident was even more so. The whole thing made me sick. I didn't go to the lunch they had afterward at the church. I couldn't. I went home with the lady who I helped teach the two year olds with (she saw I was distraught and pretty much dragged me to her house) to cook for the family.

I still think of the little boy often. Last night, especially. He would be in fourth grade this year. He would have three younger siblings. He would be getting confirmed soon and entering the "tweens" ministry.

I do NOT blame this sweet mother one bit. But thinking about loosing Annie to something preventable was more than I could take. I mean if she became ill and died I would be so hurt and it would all but kill me. But if it was something that I could have prevented. How could I live? I. Could. Not.

And I just had this sick feeling all night last night. Honestly, I'm not the most confident person in the world. And sometimes I really do think that since this whole "being a parent" thing was not part of my master plan (though, I confidently acknowledge it was part of the master plan), there are times I feel so ill-equipped for it. And it makes me even more insecure.

Well, this morning when I got to the church someone told me that the mother of the little boy I had been thinking about had given birth during the night (I think the baby was due in November). And the baby had a critical heart condition. They operated on him at UMC this morning, at less than 24 hours old(***). I have been holding back tears all morning.

Tears of sympathy for a mother whose endured so much.

Tears of rediscovered grief for a little would be fourth grader.

Tears of fear for a sweet one day old.

Tears of anger for a fallen world, full of sinners of every age.

Tears of humility for the protection and grace lavished on a young family in too big of a hurry last night.

And tears of thankfulness for a safe, healthy almost seven month old.

***Please be in prayer for this family today.

1 comment:

Ashley said...

This has happened to me and Kurt before. Just breathe, and like you said, consider it God's grace. It's over and done, so don't put yourself on a guilt trip. Xoxo :)