Grief of a different kind

                       Grief of a Different Kind.

 

 

    There is grief that is just sadness, and then there is this, bone sucking, chilling grief.    I have lost 3 people in my life who were near and dear to my heart.  The 3rd person was just this week. What makes this grief, for me, so different from the other two, was that the person was a child.   And grieving the loss of child is quite different indeed.

                     Ayden was one of my first patients I had as a pediatric nurse. But over time, he became so much more to me than a patient.  He became woven into the fabric of my heart and soul, and I lovingly referred to him as my “little man”.  I couldn’t have loved this boy more if he were my own.   Ayden had a lot of complex medical issues, but despite all that he had quite the personality. He was so strong, fought so hard, and brought joy to everyone who knew him.  Was he ornery and stubborn too? Oh YES, as only Ayden could be. He couldn’t talk but he said a lot with his actions and his eyes.   He would throw toys, pull his trach, insist on watching “Yo Gabba Gabba” or before that became his favorite, “Phineas and Ferb” over and over and even hide under the couch.  If his favorite toy had dead batteries he would bring it to me, and if I laid it back on the floor? He would hand it right back to me until I either put it out of sight, or put new batteries in it.  I can’t count the number of times he pulled my hair with his slimy little hands.  He was my favorite Saturday afternoon Gator football buddy, and I still say he enjoyed watching the games.  Trust me when I say if he didn’t want to watch football, he would have let me know.   I loved the moments when he would crawl up in my lap and snuggle for a few minutes or even hours.  In those moments my heart was so full it was running over.

                           Jesus, in all his mercy, chose to take Ayden to heaven peacefully in his sleep.  While I am incredibly grateful for that mercy, my heart still can’t comprehend it.    This grief feels like the marrow is being sucked from my bones.   My heart has a huge gaping hole, and my arms long to hold him again.  I would give anything to be slimed.   This is what it feels like for me, and I have a feeling it is just a tiny fraction of what his mommy must be feeling. My heart aches for her and the rest of his family.  I have been so blessed to know them all, and so privileged that I was allowed to love and care for their precious boy.  Being able to be his “second mom” has truly been the greatest gift ever given me.

                              The only comfort I can find and cling to right now is the hope of heaven and seeing my little man again.  I know Jesus holds Ayden, and that now he runs,  walks, talks, (and boy I bet he has said A LOT!), and that he is finally whole.  I shall close and borrow the words from a song that has just seemed fitting for this time..

 

On that day when I see

 All that You have for me

 When I see You face to face

 There surrounded by Your grace

 

All my fears swept away

 In the light of Your embrace

 When Your love is all I need

 And forever I am free

 

Where the streets are made of gold

 In Your presence healed and whole

 Let the songs of Heaven rise to You alone

 

No weeping, no hurt or pain

 No suffering, You hold me now

 Hold me now

 No darkness, no sick or lame

 No hiding, You hold me now

 Hold me now

 

In this life I will stand

 Through my joy and my pain

 Knowing there’s a greater day

 There’s a hope that never fails…

“You Hold Me Now” Rebecca St.  James.

  There is comfort in those words, and in my hope.. but still doesn’t ease the pain of the grief.

  I Love you Little Man.. till I see you again,

 

All my heart and my love..

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April 28, 2013. faith, life, love, Uncategorized. 1 comment.