Presence

A few weeks before Julia's death.

It has been over two weeks since Julia died.  That seems impossible.  Her little light was such a bright beacon of hope, and our world is dim without her.  We are so honored to have been her parents, and we are increasingly convinced of the purpose that her life has in Christ's kingdom, as so many have shared their sense of this.  We also want you to know: Please, do not be afraid of people with Down Syndrome.  If the Lord blesses us with more children, we would not fear a special needs diagnosis.  We would feel richly blessed to have another child just like Julia.

So many of you have asked what you can do for us, and how you can help.  I think I speak for many grieving mothers when I say that simply your presence is a help.  When you talk about my beautiful child, that is a help.  When you write a quick note on Facebook, that is a help.  An encouraging email is a help.  I have been asked with some trepidation by close friends if I've had any people say well-meaning but unkind things to us, and I have to say - no.  Everyone, literally each person, has been unbelievably kind and thoughtful in their words to us, and we thank you for that.  Simply acknowledging that there are no words in the face of unbearable pain: that legitimizes our struggle and helps us to feel understood.  The only time that we've felt hurt is when people don't acknowledge our pain and ignore the grief that we feel.

Come spend time with us.  Sit us with us in silence.  Invite yourself over.  Invite us out.  Even if we cannot accept your invitation, the fact that you want to see us, despite us being so very weary and in grief, means everything to us.