I can’t decide if it’s comforting to have another woman’s experience by my own as well, or disorienting. It’s the worst kind of camaraderie. But I can attest to the pure gratitude and bring-you-to-you-knees-ness of what happens when someone takes the time to let you know they’ve shown Anna’s picture recently, thought about her, or talked about her. When they let you know how it came up, how they felt, how or if anyone else was affected by her. When someone recognizes that all this fluff of going about life is really just that, and Anna is still the core of our everyday. When there’s evidence that she’s not forgotten.
Here's a portion of a post from another website I read that resonates, written by Molly Piper who lost her daughter at 39 weeks.
We got an email a couple months ago from a friend in our church. We don’t see this guy very often; we’re not close friends. But one afternoon we got a message from him saying that as he was painting his bathroom that day, Felicity randomly popped into his thoughts and prompted him to pray for us.
The conclusion he drew from this experience was, “If I’m thinking about her three months later while I’m painting my bathroom, how much more is she still on your minds?”
All I could do was cry and think, “YES! He’s got it.”
Sometimes the Lord sends comfort from a three-year old, sometimes from a close friend, or sometimes, like in this case, from a 40-some-year-old single guy, who we don’t even know that well.
So be mindful as the days and months march on for your grieving friend that their loss is in no way over for them.
I know only the title of this song pertains, but she’s always on my mind. (A youtube video of Willie Nelsons’ song was then available for play on her site.)