Three – 2023 š©·
We really havenāt had what anyone in MN would call āSpringā this year. In spite of that, my memories of the final weeks we had with Astrid have been running through my mind.
Last month I attended the funeral for a young woman I never met but had recently met her parents. In the eulogies prior to the funeral service, her youngest brother spoke about how during a period of time when the young woman was not around for family gatherings, he would do a head count, feel her missing presence, and recognize his family was ānot complete.ā These two words struck me at my heart – I feel them two ways. One, as the missing person and two, as the person missing someone else.
When you lose a child who no one ever had the chance to meet āin real life,ā it makes for interesting introductions. When someone asks how many kids I have, I almost always say 4. Itās not that Iām ashamed or embarrassed that I have two others (one miscarried and one stillborn,) rather, those are sacred parts of my life that I reserve for people who have earned the right to know. But as I answer the question about kids, I feel the words ānot completeā in my chest. Itās a heaviness that I doubt will ever go away.
