Last week, December 7th, my husband, my son and I grieved the loss of our beloved Walter again. It has been one year, and sometimes it is still so fresh. It just doesn't seem that long ago...
We decided to get a grave blanket for Christmas and his birthday. Believe it or not, we are only just now considering his headstone. (I cannot describe to you how hard it is to pick your child's headstone. There is something so final about it). I anticipated a very difficult situation at the cemetery. The last time I had spent any real time there I realized how bad it was for the sake of my soul and planned to stay away for awhile, but I needed - I wanted to do this.
God granted us the perfect weather to reflect our emotions that day. It was dark, raining heavily and cold. I was not prepared at all for what was in store for us that afternoon.
Aron put the grave blanket down, while Ethan ran around looking at and touching everything. We'd spent enough time there for him to know it was "baby Walter's grave," not that he knows fully what that means. I don't know that a 2 year old can comprehend death. Aron and I stood there,our hands intertwined looking down at where our second son's soulless body was buried, and just when the tears were really about to flow, I asked Ethan to stand by us. He took my hand, swung from it and began to sing, and at that moment the child inside me began to move vigorously. What a mix of emotion - grief and sadness for my Walter, but an overwhelming flood of gratitude and love. My husband held my right hand, my son held my left, and our next child was making his/her presence known in my womb. I was totally and completely overwhelmed in that moment by His grace, love and mercy. It was an extraordinary beautiful and warm moment in the midst of our sorrow. The three of us sang a hymn together and headed back to the car. When we got into the car, we wept. None of this was easy exactly, but God was present. There was no doubt about it.