It’s been fourteen years since we said hello and goodbye to our first born, a daughter. She celebrated her earthly birthday on June 21st just before dawn. We were thrilled to finally meet Aurora but knew time was slipping through our fingers. After an hour and a half, she left for her heavenly birthday. While she must have rejoiced to be welcomed into the arms of our Heavenly Father, I was weeping. I didn’t want to say goodbye.
The great lie that has been told is that after time passes, you will get over the loss. How you could ever stop missing your child, is beyond me. The lives of those who go on before us, are there to help shape us for events to come. They help us hang onto the hope of a kingdom we have not experienced yet.
Our children ask more and more questions about her as each year passes. I do my best to try and answer, but there are some questions that I will never have the answers too.
My youngest daughter has been lamenting not having her big sis. She often gets a bit melancholy when she sees sisters playing together and asks if Aurora would have loved her or if they would have looked alike? Would she have been protective of her?
I try to be real and not make saints out of our children who have passed away. I don’t want my kids here on earth to feel that they can’t measure up to the level of perfection of their siblings in Heaven. I remind them that they would have had their good days and their bad days. We normally giggle at the thought of made up scenarios of what they might have encountered.
As two of my nephews graduated 8th grade, I found myself wondering where Aurora would be in all of this?
Would she like to have her hair long like her sister, or short like mine? Would there be battles over makeup and skirts being too short? Would she love academics or tumbling around on a gym mat? Would she be honing in on what she would like to do for the rest of her life, or be content with the here and now?
Still after all these years, I pray to G-d to let me see her in my dreams and just be able to observe what she looks like and to see her smile. Five minutes, just five more minutes…
I miss my daughter, and I always will.
I long to hold her in my arms and just hear his say, “Mom…”
I want more stories to share of what I know about her because so much has been left undone.
Still I often ask G-d, who would she be today?
Would she be sweet like her daddy? Or sassy like her Mom? Would she boy crazy and loud? Or would she be a quiet bookworm?
What I do have are the treasured memories of my pregnancy with her and her short time in my arms.
I am so thankful to have priceless photographs that have helped us keep her memory alive.
I am thankful for modern technology notifying us of her terminal status, long before she was born. We were able to get to know her long before she was born and prepare to capture her short time on earth.
Many may think when you die, that your life is over and there isn’t more you can contribute. I have found that love transcends all time and boundaries. Though she was only here a brief moment in time, she has forever changed my heart and how we look at the sacredness of life that begins in the womb.
As her birthday rapidly approaches, I think about who she would be today and smile with tears. In the natural it seems her life has faded into time, but in Christ, she has begun her endless journey of joy.
I miss her for the selfish reasons of wanting to share her crazy antics of being a fourteen-year-old girl. I miss the hugs and conversations that I wish could have taken place. I miss her presence.
And then I realize she wouldn’t be a girl, she would be a young woman….
Since having our children, we have made sure to make Aurora’s Day, one that was fun and filled with beauty. I think she wouldn’t want me holed up in my room and feeling so sad every time I heard her name.
It’s hard because I do find myself wanting to cry, and sometimes I do. But I know that she would want us to remember her and smile. She was a gift from G-d, not a burden.
So today I want to share the beautiful pictures that I do have of our sweet Aurora. I want to remind others that life is precious and sacred, no matter how brief the visit is here on earth. She made a difference in our lives for the better.
What we saw as death, she has stepped into the real life of living.
Heaven is our home, and our children are there. We are blessed to be her parents not just here, but for all of eternity.
I came across this amazing song written by Angie Smith called, “I Will Carry You.”
She too had learned early in her pregnancy that her daughter had kidney issues and would not be staying for very long. As I read the words she wrote for her daughter, I felt as though she had ripped the words from my soul.
Till then, as the song says, “I will praise the one who has chosen me to carry you.”