Recently I attended a memorial service for families who had lost babies at the hospital where we had our son, Oli. I knew it would be a day full of emotions. As I stood in that chapel with so many other families I was struck my how many broken hearts there were in the room; each one of us was in a different place on our grief journey. Some had just lost their baby and their emotions were still raw. Others were months or even years into their grief and the emotions were less raw but you could tell the pain was still there. There stood so many mothers who just a few months before had been overjoyed at seeing that little blue line and in a moment it all fell apart. Some had lost babies before they were born, others like us had lost them after a few short days in the NICU and others had lost them later on.
As we all sat there tears streaming down our face, listening to the music wondering why it was us sitting there grieving our children, each one of us missing our babies, the Chaplin stood up and gave a brief talk. He spoke of the journey of grief and the long road that we must each travel and then he said something that has stuck with me ever since. He explained that as a father he had walked his own journey of grief after losing his daughter to SIDS but as he walked that journey with his wife and countless other people he truly believed that, “no one could ever know the pain of a mother’s broken heart.” He was explaining how we each go on our grief journey as mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, yet there was something uniquely profound about a mother’s grief.
I don’t know if its because we carried them and so it feels like we lost a part of ourselves or that its just the way God created us, to be forever connected to our children. I think it’s a just part of God’s heart that he gave uniquely to mothers. Now please don’t hear me say that a father’s, aunt’s, uncle’s or grandparent’s grief isn’t valid or true. I think that everyone who has lost a child experiences pain & loss I just thought it was interesting that from a father’s perspective who lost a child and someone who has walked with so many through grief and loss that he thought there was something unique about a mother’s pain.
As I have been thinking about this over Lent, I started thinking about Mary and the loss and pain she experienced. I wonder how Mary must have felt on the day she discovered that Jesus was going to die. I’ve always wondered if she had always known. My guess is that even though she knew that he was her Savior that her heart as his mother would have continued to hope that there would be another way. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to stand at the cross watching your Son die knowing that it was unjust. The pain must have been unbearable as she watched her son take the pain and suffering of everyone on his shoulders.
I have no idea what Mary’s thoughts were or even how she managed to make it through those days. But, over the last few months, I have had a glimpse into what that must have felt like. I have always been struck by the fact that even in his final moments Jesus made sure his mother had someone to look after her. He knew that her grief would be unbearable. Until this year I had never really thought about how her grief must have continued even after he ascended to Heaven. I had always got stuck on the fact that he had risen and was in Heaven but his mother was still left without him. She still had to go on every day without the son she had raised and watched grow. Even though we know our children are safe and in Heaven, it doesn’t take away the pain of wanting them here with us.
Jesus was not only Mary’s son but her Savior as well and so he knew she would need someone to stand with her in the days, weeks and years ahead. This last year I have learned a lot about the power of people standing with you in grief. Some days are good and we don’t need people as much, some days are hard and we just need to know someone is there. Grief is so unpredictable and this can make it hard for people stand with you in your grief. A knowing smile, an outreached hand, a thoughtful text all make us feel slightly less alone. Even though it doesn’t take the pain or loss away it makes slightly easier to bear.
I think sometimes people get afraid that they will say the wrong thing and so don’t say anything at all that, I think a lot of the time that’s worse though. We just want to feel like we are not alone and that are children are not forgotten. I had one friend send me a gift and a card a few weeks after Oli had died, it just said that she couldn’t imagine what I was going through but that she guessed it was hard to see everyone going back to their normal lives when I was still dealing with such unbearable loss. She wanted me to know she hadn’t forgotten. I wept as I read the card but they were good tears. They were tears of a mother whose heart was thankful that someone loved me enough to take the risk. Handling people in their grief is risky and unpredictable but I can tell from someone who has experienced it and continues to experience it, it’s worth the risk.
So I will leave you with this, at some point we will all know someone who experiences grief and probably the loss of a child and the question is will you choose to have the courage to stand with them when they need you the most?
Will you STAND with them when the world falls apart and they have no idea how they will make it through?
Will you STAND with them as they say goodbye to a life gone too soon?
Will you STAND with them as they pack away their hopes & dreams in little boxes that will never be opened again?
Will you STAND with them when it takes all their strength to just get out of bed?
Will you STAND with them when they need to cry?
Will you STAND with them when they just don’t want to be alone?
Will you STAND with them when they have nothing to say?
Will you STAND with them when all they want to do is talk?
Will you STAND with them on the good days?
Will you STAND with them when they start to laugh again?
Will you STAND with them remind and them that you will never forget the precious life we lost?
