It’s raining outside. We enjoy the rain in this household because we don’t experience it enough. As of late I have been stirred by how vast this loss community is. There are so many blogs and YouTube tribute videos with hundreds of thousands of views. The phenomena of Facebook is that we can be notified of a new family faced with the brutality of losing a baby and people can provide immediate response by the tens of thousands in a few short hours, even minutes.
I wonder how this kind of immediate response may have affected our healing process in 2002.
We have so many yet to reach. I know this will all come in time. I want people to know that families like ours have come back. We’re not here to rescue. We’re not here to force people step out of their normal process of grief. STILL is simply a sign post, a small shining light in the darkness. Just a note, a reminder that we are here and we endure, survive. We exist at various stages. There are stages and growth. Losing a baby isn’t final, terminal. At least it doesn’t have to be. There are casualties of life and love beyond this loss. We’re hoping that a kinder world may someday help minimize the destruction beyond the death.
I don’t have any answers. I do feel however that in 2012 we stretched boundary. With projects like STILL and Return To Zero, individuals like Kelly Farley at Grieving Dads and veterans of this war like Sherokee Ilse we grow and bloom just a little. Carrie and I are simply proud to help carry this banner even for a brief moment. Certainly for Elena but not solely for her. In 10 years much healing takes place. I couldn’t have imagined this Christmas 2002, but I have mended. No tears this morning. Just rain and that’s just fine. Good Morning.
– Jonathan Pascual