|Father's Day dinner|
The granddaughters have been really concerned that Grandpa (Pacca) is ok and through a couple of FaceTime visits, I think they are reassured that his "boo boo" is getting better.
We went on Saturday to the Baddour Center, a wonderful place in our community. It is a home for adults with special needs. They have a great nursery where we always try to buy flowers to plant around our home each spring. We are a bit behind due to the above-mentioned surgery, so it was great to get over there for some petunias that we put out on Saturday (My husband used his good arm to plant).
Jennifer, a casual friend of mine that I know from our small town, works there in the nursery. She and her husband have a boy and a girl just like us. Their children are a bit younger than ours, so we did not really know them as school friends. I met her several years ago when she worked at a favorite shop of mine. She helped us when my daughter-in -law Anna picked out items for her bridal register in that shop.
She was there on Saturday and came out to help us. She said, "I've been thinking of you guys lately." She went on to tell us that her 28-year-old son had passed away on Thanksgiving last year. I was shocked to my very core. He had only been married for 7 weeks, and he succumbed to a massive heart attack.
My heart shattered for her at that moment. I could see the pain in her eyes. Pain that I know first hand radiated from her. I wept right there in the middle of all of those flowers. My tears were for that young widow, his sister and father and most of all for Jennifer. I know her journey all too well. I had no words to say to comfort her, because there are none.
So I listened to her. Richard and I just listened to her and let her tell us how she was coping and what she was doing, and how things were going. That is all anyone can do. We talked about our experiences and she related that she had just moved to our town and it was her first Sunday at her church the day Lauren died. She told us how many people in that church were openly praying for us. She didn't know us then, but she prayed for us too. I have prayed for her every day since then.
I only had one piece of advice I could give her: "Don't let anyone tell you how to grieve."
That is the worst thing you can do to a parent who has lost a child. Just listen and let them go through the process. Don't tell them it will be ok, because it really won't. Not really, ever again. It is just a new normal. That is all.
Our true comfort comes from God.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
To find out more about The Baddour Center visit www.baddour.org