Yesterday, I met a new friend. I took Samantha and Callie to Rock Canyon Park to play and relax before I went out with some friends. Grandma and Grandpa would be putting them to bed, and I was trying to assure that they would, indeed, be tired and go to bed -- the kids that is. While at the park, I met Argie. She's a dear older woman with a heart of pure gold. She then introduced me to her daughter-in-law. I was briefly told the story of Julie's son, Brigham, and felt that there was a reason we met that day. I felt uplifted by her tenderness, sincerity, and the immediate connection with her ~ all of this needed after a rather tough emotional week for me.
We exchanged contact
information and this morning I spent some time reading about dear
Brigham Reneer online. I read an article in the Deseret News. I read
from Argie's blog. I read as much as I could because I was just falling in love with this boy's smile, courage, and Christ-like example. Truly.
Death, itself, is not what hurts my heart. I
do not cry for those who pass on, but for those who remain and wait for
their reunion. It's the days, weeks, and months that follow that I
often think about. I think about the small moments when a parent passes their child's empty room. Or when that darn lost sock shows up in the laundry basket and sparks uncontrolled tears.
At the one year mark of Brigham's
death, family friend's created a video. I watched it and was so touched
at how they explained the first year without their son. It is
beautiful and real. Painful and filled with hope and love. Charity.
It has been over 2 years since Brigham passed away and Julie still teared up as she told me how hard it is to take care of our special needs kids, but when they're gone, we miss it...every little tough thing about it, we want it back. The Savior can heal our hearts. I have no doubt about that. But I also believe when you love so deeply like that, tears will still flow...even for an earthly lifetime.