My So-Called Homeschool

I know, I haven’t blogged in a few days. We’ve had some sadness, not personally, but at our church, and I’ve been hesitant to turn it into blog fodder. But today, I was treated with such grace, I just have to share.

Our youth minister recently resigned, about two months ago. I won’t go into details, but he and his wife are still active in our congregation, as awkward as it must be for them at times. They are loved dearly and are muddling through as best they can. Friday afternoon they put their two-month-old daughter down for a nap. She never woke up. Our church has been going through collective mourning for and with them, holding them, praying with them and for them, just trying to do whatever we can — knowing that there is really nothing we can say or do. After church, Squid told me that I had to go see A before I left. I didn’t know they were even at church today, and I couldn’t imagine what she might want. I was ready to be available for whatever might be needed. She grabbed my hands, looked at me sadly and said “I’m so sorry I didn’t let you hold C Wednesday night. I knew you needed that, but I thought someone else who was holding her would hand her to you, and then you were gone before I could give her to you.” I held her and we cried together. Her little girl was born two weeks before the baby we lost was due. I was always admiring C, but she was usually asleep and I didn’t want to wake her, or someone else was holding her — she was a popular baby! I -did- get to hold her the week before when A wasn’t around (someone else had her again), and it helped heal my heart a little, just smelling that baby smell and cuddling her close. I couldn’t believe that A thought of me through her sorrow, and was sad for - me. Such grace. I wish I knew something, anything at all, I could do to give her some respite from the sorrow, but I know there’s nothing.