My post today will not be the upbeat, silly post you may be used to by now on Noob Mommy. I thought it would be polite to warn you ahead of time.
Yesterday, I pretended I was in Seattle. I was sitting by myself in a coffee shop staring out a rainy window. It was so toasty inside with the lulling smell of lattes and macchiatos swirling through my hair. I could make out the tapping of laptop keys in the background and a Norah Jones sound-alike singing breathlessly over the espresso machines.
It was such a melancholy rainy day, that it was easy to believe I wasn’t in California. I drank cups and cups of tea with honey and looked out of (what were really) my patio doors, to see my thirsty tomatoes get drenched and battered by the wind. It was lovely. We’ve really needed some rain. And rain it did.
Hail and whipping, unforgiving winds brought me back to reality. The lovely Seattle cafe evaporated, and I was back behind Noob Daddy’s computer in California reading the blog post that haunted me for the rest of the day. McMommy wrote a post about the McClenahans’ 11-month-old daughter, Cora, who passed away this weekend from cancer. What they thought was just another ear infection, turned out to be stage 4 cancer which had consumed her liver.
As I read through post after post in their archives documenting Cora’s fight to beat cancer, I could barely read the words. They blurred behind my tears. It was like looking through that drizzled window. But Seattle was gone.
I realize now that the strongest people in this world are not soldiers, presidents, firefighters, Olympic medalists, or war survivors. The strongest people in this world are those who have endured the loss of a child.
I stared at the pictures of little Cora–round faced little peach–and I couldn’t help but squeeze Noob Baby so tight that she squirmed, oblivious of my tears soaking through her hair. I couldn’t imagine their pain. It would be impolite, unworthy for me to do so, wouldn’t it? But still I tried to, over and over again.
I have a personal relationship with God. I pray almost everyday. But I won’t lie. I don’t attend church. The last time I did was for a funeral, and before that, my baptism.
It’s stories like Cora’s that make me question my God, even though I trust him blindly. Why must life be so imbalanced?
Why are there so many bad people in this world being carried and lifted up on the trembling backs of tired, honest people? I would trade a handful, no both armfuls, of that undeserving lot for one more chance for dear sweet Cora. Are all lives equal? I don’t know. But I’m only human.
I’d rather just reiterate what I do know. And that is that children are unconditionally pure and full of possibilities. A child’s life is an open book with crisp clean pages that should stretch beyond days, weeks, months or years.
I admit, I was crippled with fear after reading the McClenahans’ journey. My chest closed up so tight around my heart. But then Noob Baby smiled, and that smile broke into a grin. And the grin burst into laughter. So, my heart leapt from my chest gulping in the air.
Yesterday, I was given a much-needed reminder that life is so fragile. It burns fiercely one second and then flickers faintly the next. Whether or not it will continue to burn thereafter depends only on a breath, a breeze or on the deepness of just one sigh.
Dear Journal, I pray that God will bless all our children today and everyday.