the wrenching away of a child's life is just too much to much to process. in sickness, i have perspective...but in such diabolical violence...? i don't. i'm empty to it.
the angry web of evil and derangement that would drive a human being to this... we still don't know the seriousness of this problem. it is bigger than anyone wants to deal with.
many changes are coming, i think. i don't know exactly how i feel about it. are we ready for a real and honest conversation? perhaps i will expand on my thoughts at another time.
just thinking of empty little beds. empty little chairs.
presents under the tree that will never be opened.
when we got home from the hospital the night Gwennie, i watched Ginger walk in silently, an empty baby carrier in tow. Gwen's toys were still scattered, right where she left them only hours before. dinner dishes and her sippy cup still on her high chair. suddenly the enormity of what this grief would be hit in an jarring and distressing way. her life was everywhere...her little toothbrush. her favorite bath toy. her sock left in the dryer. a dried drip of drool. a piece of paper she scribbled on for a moment, nothing fancy and easily discarded, instantly becomes precious.
it was long before steps were made to remove the things that made it hers. for weeks Ginger couldn't bring herself to wash the linens in Gwen's crib, her blankie and glowworm, her little tufts of hair. even her clothes, with their apple sauce stains and smells of sour milk. it took the imminent arrival of the twins to really make it happen. all her dresses in the closet...the new clothes bought because she was just starting to grow out of her old ones...
i'm still not sure what they ended up doing with them all. i have never felt the right time to ask.
these are a fraction of what these families are facing now. right now.
un. speakable.
it is...the worst of the worst night mares. and my heart is broken.
Lord Jesus, only You can save us here.
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