This is worded so perfectly, I couldn’t help but share. It’s from Stephanie Cole’s book Still: a collection of honest artwork & writings from the heart of a grieving mother. www.sweetpeaproject.org/book
My heart sighs at just how truly profound and un-ending our losses as parents are when a child dies. Sometimes I’m able to ignore dwelling on the nagging empty space that my heart holds for D. When I allow my mind to wander, its these types of things that I grow angry about. I know we’re suppose to be happy about the fact that we got to spend any time at all with our little wonders (if we had the chance), but that doesn’t negate the fact that we have still all lost these opportunities to watch our children grown and experience the world and the wonders of life. It’s never singular; we continue to lose, over and over again.