bigger things

I went to a memorial service for the infant daughter of a good friend of mine this weekend. She was born premature, the mom and dad had less than a day with her. Long enough for an outfit change, some pictures, and a lifetime of unspeakable pain.

I wasn't going to post about it. But I can't get it out of my head. I've been in pain before, and a pretty good dose of it too. Broken bones, 100s of stitches, concussions. Emotionally, I've been there as well. I was thinking about that too, this weekend. The parents of the daughter and I have had our share of nights out on the town when we were in college. They used to joke about how attached I would get to someone, only to have it eternally blowing up in my face.

But nothing I ever went through, no laceration, "its-not-you-its-me", or dream deferred ever hurt like Friday night. I never met the baby, never saw her except for the pictures in the memorial service, but I could not stop crying. I couldn't sleep until Sunday night, haven't been hungry. I don't think you are supposed to get more emo as you get older.

I think it's that, even the worst possible thing that can happen to you as a parent, is better than anything that happens to you when you aren't.

I hope I got that right.





The child they had, but didn't have, that they will have forever.