When life takes a turn
I dialed her number. I didn’t know what to say, my heart was breaking.
She said “Hello!” and I felt like my heart was being squished. She spoke in a monotone, flat, lifeless - drab, just getting the words out, that was all, just getting the words out.
“Mary, my baby is gone”
“Mary, we did all we could, we tried everything”.
“You think, only 11 years and then again, all the 11 years”
I wanted to scream. "WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT??!!" This is absolutely insane.
It had been a day and a night since he passed and I had only got the news that morning. I was upset! Upset that I didn’t know sooner. I should have known sooner. No! I should have been there when it happened, but life has its way of tossing us, scattering us like seeds to the ends of the earth.
How could I hold her through these air waves? Hug her, look into her eyes and feel the emotion? Could I just hold the phone up to my ear for hours? Sniffing from time to time, just to let her know I was there, as close as I could be.
Tears streamed down my face. Our new topic of conversation was death. Not too long ago, we run around without a care, fussed about dresses and hair, about books and courses on campus. Boys turned their attention to us and we giggled and blushed. Life was kind, no worries, just fun and friendship.
Nice men took our hands in marriage. She had her first child and I was amazed that a human being had come from her tiny body – a miracle. We celebrated.
11 years later, that first child was no more. I was falling apart on the phone, making a mess at my desk. Tears rushing down my face, white soaked tissue scattered all over the place. I couldn’t be there. Death was the dish of the day, how grim! We had been served and eat we must. Good Lord! What a day!
There was a deep hole in her heart that she wanted to fill up and seal. When it all happened, her insides wanted to fall out, so she lay down so that there was nowhere else for them to fall.
It’s shuttering to listen to a mother talk about the moments after the death a child. My stomach tightened. “Has it come to this Lord?”
As the torrents of sorrow rushed in there was also a calm assurance that God had it all taken care of.
We will never be the same; the toys have been replaced with shovels’ and hoes. The curtain of childhood has been stripped away and now we stare at life red eyed and tougher.
But in Christ the anchor holds, though the ship is battered, the anchor holds though the sails are torn.
That I will not be there for the funeral service or the burial hurts me deeply. What is most important is that God carries Albert, Elizabeth, Shalom and David under His wings. May they reach home safely, come back safely and begin the journey of life without Victor.
She said “Hello!” and I felt like my heart was being squished. She spoke in a monotone, flat, lifeless - drab, just getting the words out, that was all, just getting the words out.
“Mary, my baby is gone”
“Mary, we did all we could, we tried everything”.
“You think, only 11 years and then again, all the 11 years”
I wanted to scream. "WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT??!!" This is absolutely insane.
It had been a day and a night since he passed and I had only got the news that morning. I was upset! Upset that I didn’t know sooner. I should have known sooner. No! I should have been there when it happened, but life has its way of tossing us, scattering us like seeds to the ends of the earth.
How could I hold her through these air waves? Hug her, look into her eyes and feel the emotion? Could I just hold the phone up to my ear for hours? Sniffing from time to time, just to let her know I was there, as close as I could be.
Tears streamed down my face. Our new topic of conversation was death. Not too long ago, we run around without a care, fussed about dresses and hair, about books and courses on campus. Boys turned their attention to us and we giggled and blushed. Life was kind, no worries, just fun and friendship.
Nice men took our hands in marriage. She had her first child and I was amazed that a human being had come from her tiny body – a miracle. We celebrated.
11 years later, that first child was no more. I was falling apart on the phone, making a mess at my desk. Tears rushing down my face, white soaked tissue scattered all over the place. I couldn’t be there. Death was the dish of the day, how grim! We had been served and eat we must. Good Lord! What a day!
There was a deep hole in her heart that she wanted to fill up and seal. When it all happened, her insides wanted to fall out, so she lay down so that there was nowhere else for them to fall.
It’s shuttering to listen to a mother talk about the moments after the death a child. My stomach tightened. “Has it come to this Lord?”
As the torrents of sorrow rushed in there was also a calm assurance that God had it all taken care of.
We will never be the same; the toys have been replaced with shovels’ and hoes. The curtain of childhood has been stripped away and now we stare at life red eyed and tougher.
But in Christ the anchor holds, though the ship is battered, the anchor holds though the sails are torn.
That I will not be there for the funeral service or the burial hurts me deeply. What is most important is that God carries Albert, Elizabeth, Shalom and David under His wings. May they reach home safely, come back safely and begin the journey of life without Victor.
As i was reading along, i was thinking goodness not somebody else too, coz i knew someone that lost their 11 year old recently too. Gut-wrenching story. Only to get to the end and realised it was the same family you were talking about. Really sad.
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