Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers

Lilypie - Personal pictureLilypie Angel and Memorial tickers

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

A Sign

Traffic  slows almost to a halt.  I round the curve on my way to work and see two cars stopped in the road… an accident.  It doesn’t look like anyone is hurt.  But there is a mom on the side of the road clutching her little girl, maybe about 3 years old, and crying on the cell phone.  The girl looks okay.  Then a mile or so past the accident the state trooper screeches by me.  Then the ambulances.   Sirens wailing.  And I join them.   Wailing.

It is just too much.  I saw the broken glass in the road.  The mommy.  The sounds.  The cell phone.  The little girl who is okay.  But now I am in that day, and the little girl is not okay.  And the mommy didn’t get to hold her… ever again.  And the ambulances didn’t come just to screen us.  They came to carry her away.   Forever.  I cannot hold it in any longer.  I am losing it.  Control.  It broke down on the road back there with the crunched up hood and dented bumper.  My breath comes hard and fast like I have run a marathon.  The hot tears stain my cheeks.  She is dead.  

I have been awake since 3 this morning.  It started with a baby, but then I just couldn’t  escape the pounding reality that she is dead.  The feelings of disbelief.  The sights and sounds when we told our parents in the ER.  The truth I do not want to be true.  Will this darkness pounce on me when my consciousness awakens every morning until I die?  All the long years?  Will I be 70 and still wake up horrified?  Did someone say the second year is easier?  Oh God!  Has it been more than a year!?  God please help me to see something real!  I know Jesus said a wicked generation seeks a sign.  Then maybe I am wicked.  But oh how I long for a sign!

I cuddled my baby in the dark morning hours.  Felt her breath.  Smelled her hair.  Rubbed her cheeks.  For hours while she slept.  By daybreak there were two of them close.  Snuggling warm on mommy.  I listen.  With my heart.  Soft babies breathing gently.  Breathing in the contentment of nearness.  Breathing out the comfort of God.  Maybe… maybe I have been given a sign... or two.

No comments:

Post a Comment