The Power of Words

April 18th, 2008.  The worst day of our lives.  We had to give our baby boy back to God.  As they were feverishly trying to save him in the (St. Luke's) ER, Tommy and I stood outside praying.  We told God that, if he took Luke, we would be ok.  It's not that He needed permission, as Luke was and is His child.  But I think that He needed to hear it from us.  He needed to know that we were ready to say our "goodbyes". 

And so we did.

After we lost him, we were numb.  Aside from the wake and funeral, I didn't leave the house for over a week.  I wouldn't even go outside.  How could the world go on when my heart was torn apart?  When I was still producing milk, with no baby to eat it?  When I still had the scars of pregnancy? 

But it did.

And it was hard.

Even more difficult were the words that were not spoken, the notes that were not sent, the calls that were not made. 

And it was lonely.

Even as we were showered with meals, phone calls, and visits from so many people, we felt the absence of others.

I felt hurt. 

For 6 years. 

Until about two weeks ago.

A few weeks ago, I received a handwritten note in the mail.  I obviously don't want to go into too much detail, but I can say that this note lifted a huge weight from my shoulders.  While reading it, the sender had asked for forgiveness in not acknowledging Luke's life and death.  I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to write this note, but what this person did for me was immeasurable.  Six years of bitterness and anger.  Six years of sadness. 

Gone in the few minutes that it took to read the note. 

I had been holding on to these feelings for so long that they had become a part of me.  How wonderful to know that, after all these years, the feelings could become a thing of the past? 

It is no surprise that God chose this time of year to tap this person on the shoulder, encouraging the sender to write words.  Words that made me cry, and made me smile.  I needed this note and He knew it (as did Luke). 

Words can heal.  These words healed that part of my heart that held so much resentment.  And I am so thankful for them.

This year, Luke's angel day occurs on Good Friday.  Could it be any more perfect?  On the day that we recognize the death of Jesus, we will also recall the death of our own son.  As a mother, I cannot fathom what Mary felt as she watched her son beaten and sentenced to death for the sins of others.  But I can empathize with her heavy heart and I can't think of a better mother to emulate. 

Tomorrow on Good Friday, our family will remember that Christ's crucifixion and resurrection on Easter Sunday will bring the promise of new life. 

It is in that new life that we will see our son again.

May God bless you all on this Easter Weekend.