Being There

Here we are, almost a month on from when my world was cracked & shaken a bit, and my friend's world broke into pieces. The memorial service is over, the burial has taken place, and she & her family are trying to pick up the pieces and find some new form of "normal". My heart is still aching for them, but while I carry a stone of grief, they are carrying a boulder. It is so hard to know what is the best way to help, and after an initial flurry of practical help for meals, etc, now it is clear that the best way I (we, my family & I) can help them is to just be there for them.

Today was good, I think. She came over for a playdate, and their surviving daughter (almost 3) had a good time playing with our oldest two kids. Of course my eldest DD is the same age as her sister was, so she felt comfortable with her. And she has been over many times before for playdates, so she knows where stuff is, what our house is like, what kinds of toys we have, etc. It was so nice to see her running around with my kids and just being a regular *kid*, not being shy and quiet and clingy. She didn't want to leave when it was time to go, which I think was the best compliment she could have paid to my kids. They all had a ball, playing dress up and make-believe games with cats and fairies and all the other shiny, bubbly pretend games that kids at those ages love to play.

My friend is coping so well. Of course everything is so skewed--she said her house is "so quiet, too quiet". I cannot express adequately how my heart hurts for her. She is trying to figure out what could possibly be the reason for this, and of course she doesn't have an answer. She believes there is a reason for everything, and she hopes that the press coverage about the death has helped some parents who were on the fence about the H1N1 vaccine, to get the vaccine for their kids. She said so many little things remind her of her daughter--she will be going along, and think she is doing okay for a while, and something else comes forward to remind her of her child and then she's back to the beginning again. She's sick of people asking her how she is doing. Of course she is! She can't even go Christmas shopping for their surviving child without facing an array of toys that instantly remind her of her firstborn, the "Oh, ________ would love that!" and that split second realization that there isn't a child at home to buy it for, any more.

Grief is so hard, because it is so intensely personal. Everyone does it differently. I can only hope, that in being there to listen and sympathize and cry alongside her, that I can help ease my friend's grief for just a moment or two, a little at a time. I know she & her husband are going to carry this with them for the rest of their lives on this earth, but I hope that the edges soften for them, sooner rather than later. It is really the worst thing I have seen anyone go through, and the worst thing I have gone through, even flitting along the edges. I would not wish it on anyone. It is no wonder that death is described as the enemy in the Bible. I just keep asking God to gather them in His arms and keep them in His hand, because He's the only one who can and has defeated this ultimate enemy. I am still sad.