This week has been emotionally draining. On top of being 8 months pregnant and not getting more than 5 hours of sleep a night, we have been busy.
On Wednesday, I attended a funeral for a 18 month old. She was a granddaughter to two people who may be the nicest I have ever met. Janet is an educator who used to be the instructional coach on our campus. She moved to the district level and has since retired, but I remember attending various staff parties at her house. She is not only a mentor to many, she is like a grandma--too. She always had Diet Coke in her fridge and candy on the tables. I have never heard her utter an unkind word about anyone. Her husband Ray, is one of those people who may intimidate you at first. But, as you start to talk to him you realize he is wonderful and a totally devoted husband and father. When I was pregnant with our first daughter, my parents had not yet moved to Texas--Ray and Janet offered to babysit.
When we heard Brooklyn--Janet and Ray's granddaughter passed away, we knew we needed to do something.
Luckily, our Executive Director of Academic Achievement along with some other amazing people in our district took a little of the burden off the family--they bought food and created a sign up for the funeral dinner. We had spots to bring food, set up food, serve and clean up. People signed up in full force. There was quite a bit of food left, which is great news because the family is big and very close knit.
I have no idea what they are going through. I feel so sad for them. I have no idea what to say. (I do keep thinking of this blog that I follow, "Life without Nash: Life after the loss of an infant." http://whennashsmiled.com/ Check it out if you have time.)
However, as I was talking to my boss, I asked him what to say to someone who just lost a loved one. (He used to be a pastor.) He said, "Don't say I am sorry. Just let them know you are there for them and you want to help." I felt like that was good advice.
When my husband and I went to the funeral home for the visitation--Janet and Ray told both of us, "Hug your babies tight. You never know how much time you have with them."
I loved this advice and I made sure I hugged my girl extra tight. I have really been trying to make more of an effort to be present with my three year old. I know that there will come a day when she won't say, "Mommy, come play with me."
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| My precious girl with her Papa. |
