I am sorry they must know.

My breath seems held again, though it falls out of my body like the tears that dropped onto my pillow and my husband’s chest night before last lulling me to sleep.  My heart beats but seems caught.  Time marches on but seems on pause.  I did not have Gabbie for 11 years.  I did not have her even for 11 minutes.  I did not make the decision to let her go to heaven, she decided on her own but just as abruptly she is gone. And now I know what it means to send a child to heaven.  The pain is in the knowing.  I know what it is to lose, what it means to send your baby to heaven on smoke.  I know what it means to be torn between your sweet living children and the one that is gone forever.  I know.  I can empathize, sympathize.  

I did not know his sweet 11 year-young soul.  But I know his mom, I just saw her Saturday doing what she loves to do; I know his father.  I wish that I could hug them.  I did not know Devin but I do know how it feels to live without a part of you, for that's what children are.  I cannot begin to fathom the depth of hurt, I know it's intense, time stopping, world freezing, season halting.  But each person's grief is their own, and no matter how much you wish to take some, it is a burden that cannot be taken by another, or shared. It is a contradiction of heart to feel so much pain, and so much love at the same time.  I'm sorry for the depth of grief that I can imagine and for the depth of grief that I can't. 

I cry for their pain, his family's, his parents'.  I cry for another person in this world to know the pain of losing a child. I cry for their broken heart.  I cry because moms and dads should not bury their children. I cry because I don’t understand and there is no understanding to ever be had.  I cry because for as long as I live I will not be able to wrap my mind around this year and the freak accidents and circumstances that have claimed such young lives and left too many friends of mine shattered in the knowing that they cannot un-know.

I do not breathe as easy as in naivety, but troubled and anxiously.  My heart does not beat light with innocence,but heavy burdened with knowledge.  My soul has been aged by years these past 12 months. I am wiser now for knowing and permanently sadder for the experience.  I somehow continue to produce tears, though I’ve cried an ocean of tears this past year, and have felt each tear pulling from the deepest parts of my soul. The shedding of each tear does not make the burden of knowing and feeling lighter. I will always wish to go back in time, to do something different that would keep her.  The hardest part is letting those "what ifs" and "supposed to be" thoughts go, and to learn to be gentle with yourself. 

God rest your sweet 11 year-young soul, Devin, may angels keep you and wrap your family, especially your mom and dad, in healing love. I'm sorry they now know that which no parent should ever know.