Our community, our school, and our little family have been hit hard by the loss of a bright little three and a half year old. Brooklyn was Haley’s age. Her momma and I were looking forward to upcoming years of our girls being together. Brooklyn has sisters who are twins in Darla’s class and another sister in Everett’s class. Brooklyn and Haley were buddies as they tagged along on field trips, class parties, and as our families played together. When Brooklyn was admitted to the hospital for e.coli, no one imagined she would slip into heaven only a couple days later.
The day Brooklyn died, Darla and I walked through raspberry fields with tears and words. Nine year old Darla articulated what many of us struggle to, “It feels like nothing will ever be the same. Will it always be this awful? I can’t imagine something being funny again. I want to be with the twins right now because they must be the saddest ever- but then what should I do? What could I say? Nothing makes it better, does it? This doesn't feel real at all."
Oh, the ache of a mom wishing she could shoulder the harshness of the world and shield her children from inevitable pain and heartache.
“God can comfort and He gives us hope, Darla- but the truth is life on earth leaves us with a lot of holes. Losing Brooklyn leaves a Brooklyn hole. We learn to live in a new normal, but there will always be a Brooklyn hole. Until we get to heaven and Jesus fills all the holes forever- we walk around reminded of losses. Brooklyn’s family will never be the same. They might get used to having three girls, eventually- but the fact is they have four and we only get to see three on earth.”
Just throwing myself out there a bit...