Monday, December 31, 2012

There are no words.

My husband left for work at 6 am. On a normal morning, I'd go back to sleep (my kids sleep in fairly late) for a few more hours before starting my day. Sometimes, I get up and have some me time - check email, FB, Twitter, clean up, what have you. This morning I couldn't go back to sleep, but my younger siblings spent the night and they're all sprawled out in my living room and I didn't want to wake them this early. So, I laid in bed and played on Twitter & FB. A friend of mine posted a link to a blog with the words, "Must read if you're a parent to little ones". I clicked on it, and was not prepared for what I read.

I urge you to take a moment to read it. I laid there in total darkness in my room, with only the light from my phone and sobbed while reading it. I'm not talking about a few tears, either. It was the hard to breathe, nose stopped up, body shaking, SOBBING

Why does life go on when something like that happens? Doesn't it make sense for the world to just shut down and mourn with you? Why does this kind of thing happen? Why? I'm just a reader, a fellow mother reading the story, yet there's a million questions swirling in my head, my heart aching, for this family. After I got up to blow my nose, I went into my daughters' room. Gracelyn was sleeping peacefully and for one morbid, horrible moment, I realized her still, beautiful body could be lifeless - she could be dead. For a half second, I thought about how I'd feel if I was standing there at that moment looking at her and she wasn't breathing. How would I react? That heartbreaking, half second of pretend caused a strangled sob to escape my lips before I could run to her bed and scoop her up. Of course, waking her out of a dead sleep startled her and she gasped and clung to me, not knowing what was going on. I laid her back down on the bed without letting her out of my arms and laid with her. Feeling her breathe, smelling her hair, just holding her. I was surprised at how quickly she fell back asleep. I laid there, holding her and crying. I tried to stop myself because I knew how confused she would be, but I couldn't stop. I whispered, "I love you, Bug. I love you so much." Her light snore let me know she was asleep, but a few seconds later, she rolled over in my arms, breathing into my chest and wrapping her arms around my neck and softly breathed, "Love you, Momma.", and nestled closer to me. I silently prayed and thanked God for my three healthy, beautiful, breathing children and sent a prayer to Meghan's mother on this cool morning. I don't know her, I've never seen her face, and I've only just this morning read anything about her, but I love her. I love her and wish I could comfort her. I wish I could sit and cry with her, pray with her, just be there. I cannot imagine her pain. I don't want to try. 

Meghan's story has hit me right in the heart. I have three kids running around here. They all have furniture in their rooms that could kill if it fell on them. Why is it all not secured to the wall? Reilly, my son, climbs on stuff all the time. Paisley has just mastered crawling on top of the couch and coffee table - she, too, could climb on the big shelf in hers and her sister's room and it could easily fall on her. Knowing all of this, WHY HAVE I NOT DONE SOMETHING? Thanks to Kimberly writing through the pain to try to raise awareness for the dangers in our homes, to help prevent heartbreak from happening in other families, I will do something about it. Not next week, not on payday, not tomorrow. TODAY.

We will spend the majority of our day outside playing (if the weather permits, that is) or watching movies and playing in the living room. But, they will not be allowed to play in their rooms until Raymond gets home and can secure their furniture tonight. 

 Look around your homes. Is there anything your child can climb on that can fall on them? A dresser? A tv? Even a nightstand? Secure it. Secure it today. TODAY.

I leave you all with this: Hug your children, love them, cherish them. For there are so many parents of angels wishing they could do the same. But, heaven is just too far away...


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