Dear Parent,
The term “parent” seems so . . . distant, so clinical. Parents are people, parents are warriors, parents are some of the people I most respect in life. I think of the parent in Mark 5. Jarius, dignified teacher, begging in the dust at Jesus’ feet. His sweet, twelve year old baby girl, dying. He wasn’t at her side, though. He was desperately begging Jesus to intervene.
I think of my parents. My heart aches for them right now. They are resilient. They are incredible. But they, too, watched their daughter as she was dying. They had seen sicknesses destroy her body. They helplessly tried everything they could possibly do to save her life.
To save my life. I was that little girl. And right now, my heart is grieving for those two warriors. And for you. This isn’t the kind of blog post you open on a whim. You open it because you – or someone you love – is facing something horrible.
I wasn’t alert enough when I was dying to comprehend what my parents were going through. I was too sick, too out of it. Too . . . content with my lot to understand the terror and sorrow. If your child is dying, I won’t try to speak for them. But chances are they might be out of it too and I want to share what I want my parents to have known when they faced what they did.
I love you. I love you so much. No matter what happens. No matter what decisions are made. I love you and I will always love you. Nothing can change that. I also trust you, but more than that I trust God.
Please . . . well, this sounds impossible, but don’t be afraid. I know there is so much to be scared of. And if you’re afraid, I don’t blame you. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep at least doing that.
And parent, please ask for help. Please tell someone how absolutely terrified you are. Please ugly cry on someone’s shoulder. I know maybe there is no one who will understand. I know maybe you don’t even want to say out loud what you’re thinking and feeling. If not, that is okay. But you don’t have to face this alone. Please, please don’t face this alone.
And parent, I know you will probably give anything you possibly can to keep your baby alive. You would give your life. But please, as someone who was that dying kid, I want you to take care of yourself too. I want you to be okay too. I want you to stay alive too. I need you to do all of those things. Can you do that?
It will be okay. Even in the worst possible scenario, it will be okay. I don’t say that flippantly. I say that as a reality. That’s simply the reality of those who belong to God.
Breathe in again. Okay, now breathe out. Good. Keep doing that.
Love,
Someone Who Was Someone’s Dying Little Girl