31 for 21: Emotional duplicity

I was divided today. I held Braska for a while this morning in the recliner in her room, as she went back to sleep after crawling into my lap.  I should have been taking a shower. But I just kept praying for the mother who would never know that feeling again.  (Unfortunately I know too many mothers whose arms ache for their little precious ones, gone too soon.)

I enjoyed watching my girls go to dance class with their friends and do a GREAT job, prancing around in their Halloween costumes and being adorable.   But I had tears slowly rolling down my face as I thought about Maddie never dancing here again. (Though I happen to be quite sure she is dancing with Laynee and Carly right about now.)

I drove all over the metro area today, between dance class and visiting PaPaw so he could see all the cuteness and get some hugs, then going to work and jetting over to catch the end of a birthday party.  As I drove, I got a very ill feeling several times, thinking how mundane it is to maneuver our vehicles every day, but how quickly they can become dangerous. So quickly.

I sat and watched my girls enjoy their friend’s birthday party, surrounded by his family and lots of smiles.  There was a moment while I sat there that I imagined what another family was feeling tonight. The focus again on a sweet child with Down syndrome, beloved by so many, and yet there are surely not many smiles there.

So many beautiful opportunities today to celebrate being a parent to these two princesses and dozens of hugs, kisses, and laughs.  And I cherish them. I do.  But today, I almost felt guilty for enjoying them when I know a friend is so desperately hurting.  And yet, I’m sure, the embracing of the moments like these are what mothers who have lost littles would most vehemently encourage. 

It’s still hard to feel divided.  And even in saying that, it feels irreverent to say anything is “hard” when this is not even remotely about me and my sadness.  The pain of those freshly wounded is the focus. It’s the focus of my prayers, and that is by far the most powerful thing I can offer. Hold them, Lord. Hold them so tightly.