Susan is the angel in my life who is at least 20% of the reason I’m Catholic today. (Dear Hubby holds 50%, his mother at least 20%, and all those who were praying in league with Mother Mary, the remaining 10%…and now I’ll get in trouble having named names, because I’ll bet I forgot someone!) I’m sharing excerpts from an email she sent me after reading Small White Casket, which is about her second son, Logan. The experience of watching her (and her husband and two daughters) bury her second son, and the effect it has had on my life, is but one of the blessings that has come out of what could be seen as only a tragic event. Thanks for sharing, Susan, and for letting me share it here.

Sometimes it is easier to feel sorry for the person going through it than to imagine yourself (or in my case remember myself) going through it. I feel blessed that you hold my boys so close to your heart. We don’t know why they are there but I take comfort in knowing that they keep their watchful eye on all of us, but especially the young ones.

Most people don’t recall, at all, those moments of total disbelief, some remember only on their birthdays and at times I feel I am the only one who holds that pain on a daily basis.

I sat in church during the all school mass this past Thursday and find them in the see of red and white and yellow (school colors). I then look over at 5th grade class and have to hold back tears because Lucas isn’t there.

The boys’ birthdays are always tough and I get an occasional phone call or email to let me know someone is thinking of me but it is in January that I think of Logan most. January 21st, a Monday, was when I went in for a level three ultrasound to see the progress of the baby. That was the day the woman instead of saying “congratulations all looks well,” just simply said “I’m sorry.” I knew what she meant. I knew those were the only words she could form. I knew it was happening again.

That was the day I had to explain to my unborn baby that he would, instead of be welcomed home by his two older sisters, would join the glorious world with Jesus and Lucas. I am comforted knowing that Mary was the first to hold him in Heaven. I know that she held him close just as I would have and wiped his tears just as she did her own son.

So, on his birthday in March, I am saddened but I had two months of carrying him in my belly knowing and preparing him (and myself) for his demise. You think 9 months of a regular pregnancy seems like an eternity……those two months seemed to be not long enough…..I wanted to keep him inside me…..that was the only way he could be safe…..I knew the moment he took his first breath he would die……if not before.

I am truly blessed to have my boys and I know they look after their sisters and cousins. I listen to my girls play, fight, talk, breathe…….I am truly blessed.