emptiness

Yesterday, we watched my sister-in-law bury her son. He was 16 years old. He was healthy and active and living his life to the fullest, when it was taken in an instant. Perhaps a momentary lapse of judgment or perhaps the hand of God coming down and plucking a special person from this world. Whatever the reason, he's gone now. The shock of the news still stings, but being at the funeral was probably the most unbearable experience I've ever had.

I worry most for his mother. One of the most nurturing people I've ever known. He was her youngest. Her baby. Only 2 1/2 pounds at birth, he fought then, and he survived. With a preemie, I think you always worry, particularly when they're little. Somehow, they're more fragile than full term babies. But Evan grew and grew and grew...amazingly, since when he was a little boy he ate little more than orange juice and pepperoni. At the time of his passing, he was looked to be at least 6 feet tall.

My heart is saddened for all the reasons one would expect. He was too young. It shouldn't have been his time. No parent should have to feel what my sister-in-law is feeling today.

My heart weeps for a reason I wouldn't have expected. I weep for the relationship we never really had. In listening to stories about him, relayed by his friends at the funeral, all I kept thinking was, I never really knew this about him. He was so much more than the quiet boy, who showed me a shy smile when I would touch his face to tell him how "grown-up" he was becoming. I weep for the loss of my daughters' cousin. I was so happy that Evan and Hayley were born just 6 months apart...but they were both kind of shy, so as they grew up, they became less and less connected. And over the years, the opportunities to spend time together waned.

His friends were understandably devastated by his loss. As the funeral, they were inconsolable. It was heartbreaking.

Hayley told me as we were leaving the cemetery, that she felt saddened that she hadn't had the chance to know him better. But then, she thought, this would have been so much harder for her to cope with if she had.

There are no reasons that make sense for any of this. There are no words that can make this better. I weep for my family. My sister-in-law. My nieces. My mother-in-law. My husband.

After leaving the funeral, you return to the land of the "living". For me, the daily routine, responsibilities, and friendships help to extinguish the heartbreak. But for his mom, oh my...I pray that she can find small joys as she begins her difficult journey towards healing.