Live it Out Loud

Have you ever watched a child grieve?  Like everything in a 2 year old's life, E's grief is a melting pot of emotions.  She is smart for her age, more than a few people have described her as an old soul, and that made telling her Amelia wasn't coming home particularly difficult.  I wished that she would be oblivious, carefree, but unfortunately I knew she would understand.

When we came home from the hospital and she noticed her empty room she began to question us.  We were honest with her and reminded her that Amelia lives with Jesus.  It took a few more questions before she clued in that the sister she was so excited for was never going to share her bedroom.  She wept.  Hard.  And so did I.  For minutes that dragged on like hours her she sobbed into my chest.  And then she sat back, smiled, wiped her face and said, "Mommy, let's eat M&M's and then brush our teeth."  It has continued the same way since, moments of true despair puncutated by complete, careless joy.

E, like most little ones, lives in the moment in a way that doesn't exist in adulthood.  She sees no shame in grieving one moment and rejoicing the next.  Speaking Amelia's name or talking about her openly doesn't bring a single question to E's mind.  She doesn't wonder everyone is judging her feelings, doesn't care if someone sees her cry and isn't nervous that speaking about her dead sister will make people nervous.  Children express what they feel honestly and that's exactly what I'm trying to learn to do.  It's hard... HARD!  Especially for my save-face, don't-let-'em-see-you-cry mentality, but this isn't just my grief, isn't just my story and I owe it to Amelia and to God to live this out loud.