Sunday, December 16, 2012

it's how we make it (matthew 18:20)


the burning american question this weekend is how do people live after losing a child? i have to admit that i'm avoiding present-wrapping because i can't stop thinking about parents who have gifts under their trees for children who are no more. i haven't lost a child, but i believe it's the single worst event a human can face. my brother lost a child three years ago this week; i held a fifth-grader on the side of the highway ten days ago as she and her mother wailed for the crushed sister; and connecticut. oh connecticut. i wrote the piece below four days after losing my nephew.....it's how we make it.

the wind chimes, 
reminders of the futility of trying to stop time, 
played their merry tune 
even as the family gathered 
to mourn 
grief and her companion, exhaustion 
rode on their shoulders 
pressing them down 
making 
each step 
each word 
each breath 
labored 
but 
trudging through 
their new world 
their cameronless world 
their i-don’t-know-how-we’ll-make-it world 
they 
held 
hands 

always, always thanking him who gives all good gifts -

862. seeing my house in the daylight
863. the roches christmas cd
864. high school chorus concert
865. and middle school band
866. prayers of a nation for an entire community
867. and prayers of a community for a sick friend
868. texting with my husband (who hates texting!)
869. texting with my girl - we've been too out of touch of late....

linking with -

michelle for hear it monday, use it on sunday, ann for 1000 gifts, emily for tuesdays unwrapped,
joan for sharing his beauty, laura for playdates with god, jen for soli deo gloria shanda for on your heart tuesdays, emily for imperfect prose and kat for titus 2 tuesdays

15 comments:

  1. Kendal...you always know how to say it well even when it's hard to say. praying for you family this Wednesday-I'm so sorry.

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  2. Your poem beautifully captures the overwhelming grief of unexpectedly losing a close family member.

    This world is such a place of sorrow...

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  3. These thoughts haunt us. May it help us learn how to sit with more compassion for the mourning in their grief. Your words are so appropriate, Kendal. And I am sorry for the loss of your nephew and for the pain of the family on the side of the road. So much heartache abounds...we need grace aplenty to cover us.

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  4. Beautiful. Thanks for sharing these beautiful words.

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  5. Aching with you, Kendal.. and with your brother's family and all those in CT, and the family on the side of the road, and all those waiting for Jesus to wipe their tears away. Thanks for putting words to the hard and the ugly and the sad stuff.

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  6. Wow. You have experienced some very traumatic situations in your life in this area. No wonder your words have such deep meaning.

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  7. Thank you so much Kendal, this was beautiful.

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  8. Wow, Kendal. Thank you for this gift. amazing.

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  9. I am sorrow, Kendal, for your families loss.

    Fondly,
    Glenda

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  10. I read a blog post yesterday about the direction the teachers gave the kids as they evacuated the school "hold hands and close your eyes." Holding hands is such a way to feel community and to begin some sort of healing.

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  11. You are so, so right - it's in community that we find hope and camaraderie (I always spell that wrong - I apologize!). Blessings to you, Kendal, as you honor Cameron's memory and hug your brother tight this week.

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  12. Thank you Kendal, for speaking from your soul. Holding memories of Cameron close to my heart tonight and especially tomorrow. Remembering Avee, the Sandy Hook children and Don.

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  13. Sitting with you in the depth of this grief, my friend. We look for the moments that give glimpses of light. Love to you.

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  14. I connected with the "i-dont-know-how-we'll-make-it-world.' That says everything!

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