On Sept 26, CJay and I attended a memorial service for families who had lost children at the UVA Children's Hospital. When we received the invitation in the mail a few weeks ago, I was a little excited. Yes, excited. I know it's odd, but as time passes, people move on. As normal as that is, and as much as we expect that to happen, it's still heart warming when someone acknowledges what we've been through and, most importantly, our son.
As the day of the service approached I became anxious about what we would have to endure (tears? stories? questions?), but the service was a wonderful way to recognize those of us who have suffered this tragedy. There were tears and stories and questions, but the organizers handled the service with such care and tenderness.
A few parents stood to tell their stories, and then each child's name was read. When your child's name was called, you walked to the front of the auditorium and placed a carnation on the Tree of Life in memory of your child.
There were so many names. Too many. It was hard to look at those other parents so overwhelmed with their grief. It was hard to know that we're just like them. In some ways, it's reassuring to see so many people struggling with this loss. I hate it, but it makes me feel better knowing we're not alone. I suppose it makes me more confident that CJay and I will survive.