This short post is based on a true story, and I’m pretty sure there are many very similar and tragic stories like this one. Hold those you love closely, you never know, as someone has said, when God will want them back.
The phone call was still circling around in her mind like an endless roller coaster ride, when the baby was placed in her arms. Those awful words that had drawn a scream from her throat.
“You’re her grandparent, you can take her, right?
Jennifer looked down into the beautiful blue eyes of her young granddaughter and saw her dead child’s face gazing back at her. Fresh sobs shook her, and she had to quickly sit down before she collapsed to the floor, clutching little Ashley tightly to her chest, crying into her golden curls, rocking back and forth, in a futile attempt to comfort them both.
Jennifer and her husband were recently retired, planning on building a second home on their newly acquired land in Tennessee. It was twenty acres of serene, picturesque relaxation. They had sacrificed and saved up for this property where they would spend their golden years enjoying the lush green of the woods and rolling hills, reveling in each sunrise and sunset in their own little paradise.
No more. Jennifer went back to work and Gary stayed with Ashley. They enrolled her in preschool, fixed up a bedroom fit for a princess, and set about being parents of a toddler once again. There was little time to mourn their daughter’s tragically sudden death. The black hole in their lives was, at times, overwhelming. They wanted their daughter back. They wanted an answer to the question – why?
But God appeared silent and oblivious to their pain. Jennifer and Gary somehow got through each day, pouring their love into their precious granddaughter, exhausted with the responsibility of raising a toddler, and dealing with the grief of losing their child. Feelings of love and anger and loss mingled together to form a patchwork of suffering.
Several years went by filled with the day-to-day tasks of parenting a young child. There was laughter and tears, and lots of learning for everyone. Their love for Ashley grew in intensity as each day passed, as their grief over losing her mother softened just a bit, the knife edge of emptiness dulling over time, but never fully leaving, as any parent who has buried a child knows. And they began to see the daily graces God showered on them as they opened their eyes to His love.
“Mom and Dad,” said their oldest daughter, Amanda, one day, “would you consider letting me and David adopt Ashley? She would have two sisters, then, to grow up with. I think it would be good for her, and David and I are financially able to raise her.”
So now, Jennifer and Gary’s home is quiet again. No golden-haired toddler making messes and wreaking havoc. No bedtime stories and snuggles and fights over what she would wear. Their daughter is still gone, and now their granddaughter lives many miles away. Jennifer could retire again, and they could finally move to their paradise. But it doesn’t feel like fun anymore. Instead of one black hole of grief, now they have two.
Love makes us vulnerable and when we love deeply, as God tells us we must, we get hurt. But love also compels us to do what is best, even when it goes contrary to what we might selfishly desire.
Love holds tightly when it’s necessary, and releases when the timing is right.
But love, like Jennifer’s and Gary’s for their dead daughter and absent granddaughter, doesn’t fade over time. It remains, and God uses our memories of good times to bring us comfort, and the love of friends to keep us from feeling alone.
