Candles

Tonight was our yearly candle lighting for Compassionate Friends, a support group for parents who've lost a child ...or two ...or three.
I remember our first one.  Making it there back then is a blur to me.  How were we even able to rally enough to find our way; it was so soon after losing Phoebe.  But we did, huddled in the back, sobbing, unable to even see ...the tears so thick.  I look around, lots of new faces ...new losses.  I am more settled now, in this grief, though I don't want to be.  My heart sags knowing the weight of the earlier grieving, the certainty you won't make it ...you will die at any moment.  You live a long time with that thought, those feelings ...its heavy, heavy stuff. Beyond imagination.
Words are offered, reflections capturing what we've all lost, what we've all gained ...the oddity of losing the expectation of our whole lives with each child.  Our lives changed, forever.  The natural order of things derailed.
Candles are lit around the world on this night.  As I look at the clock, I realize they are just now lighting in California, so the flicker of light circles the world, recognizing so many lost children.  I wonder what that looks like above the earth.  It is the single largest candle lighting in the world.  That says a lot about the magnitude of heartbreak, and the intensity of losing a child.  In our own little gathering the candles fill the room.  Names are read, more and more I recognize.  I've come to know lots of these children in their death, their habits, their hobbies, style, humor, intellect ...all sorts of qualities that make them who they are.  And within these walls, their names are spoken and remembered ...it is a safe place, a natural place for us to share our child with each other.  I treasure that!
So we are a bit ahead of others now; it's our turn to assure them they will make it, that they will learn to bear the burden with grace ...and sprinkles of joy.  Hearts will always be heavy, but knowing how much we love our children we wouldn't want it any other way.  The weight reminds us of how well we love them ...still.
The best thing you can offer someone who's lost a child is a memory ...a whisper of their name.  Too often people think mentioning the child will bring up misery. It might bring a tear, but that's okay, it's like our hug or kiss to our child we can no longer hug or kiss!  We need to speak and hear our child's name, we need to hear about their time on this earth ...we need to remember them and to have them remembered.  It is the greatest gift you can offer anyone whose lost a child.
Light a candle one day for a child gone before their own parents.