She’s Gone. Is The Door Forever Locked?
I have been blessed with great joys. Through the birth of my two daughters I have had glimpses of heaven. I can attest to the life altering experience that birth bestows upon parent. The unalterable change in becoming, ‘less about you’ and more about something ‘much bigger’ than you. Some people call it growing up. Unlike most parents I also understand the raw and helpless despair of receiving a phone call that your daughter has been killed.
I am her mother. The tears I shed are for my aching loss and the loss for her father and sister. The loss of a future with her. As I kneel in church on Sunday my thoughts often spin. I am reminded that on a spiritual level Molly still lives. Her soul and spirit will never die.
I feel her spirit, her presence and her love each day. There are no more daily phone calls from Molly, asking for recipe ideas, telling me about funny things that happened in the bakery where she was working, telling me stories about her new puppy, telling me she missed me, and asking about her dad and sister. Now I make the phone calls to her through meditation and prayer.
I am greatly challenged between the spiritual side of me, who recognizes that my daughter will always surround me and the ‘mama’ side,….who lost her sweet daughter and cannot fix it. Can grief be paralyzing? Yes. Sometimes it burns in my chest and screams to me “Your child has been ripped from your womb”. Such a unfixable gut wrenching vacancy. Memories of that little toddler with curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, a sippy cup and band aids on her knees flood my thoughts and flow through my tear ducts.
Often, I can feel her reaching out to me. I’ve become sensitive to signs that she is in my midst. I think about what she would want if she saw us grieving and horribly lost without her. I know she would want to comfort those who miss her so dearly. She would want her sister to know that she is okay and that her parents will be okay. She would want all of us to speak of her, share memories, be comforted, and seek happiness. I believe that when a child dies, a part of you dies too. We must redefine our lives and accept that our child has gone ahead of us in the wrong order. We were suppose to go first.
I believe that God represents the light and love of the world. He loves us enough to send our spirit into this world through the physical body to learn and to give others an opportunity to grow through our relationships with one another. We are here for a purpose. She was here for a purpose. Sometimes our purpose can be to assist others on their journey. When we return to the spiritual realm, we leave the physical body behind and continue to grow in love. We will meet again in the spiritual realm of the positive energy we call Heaven. This is what consoles my heart, and it is the reason I can give thanks and celebrate my earthly blessings; namely my family.
There is much more to our existence than this 3-dimensional earthly world. Many are believers and ‘some’ of us, through an unthinkable tragedy, are forced to accept that our worst fear has come true. Along with this ‘realization’ is the opportunity to further investigate the spiritual doors which may have been locked up until now. A large ring of keys has been given to those who have lost a child. The task lies ahead.
-by Marsha Abbott
