Perhaps the deepest sense of anguish for those of us who bear the loss of a child is the feeling that their lives were cut short. We can list the many things they will not get to do, be, or share. And worse, we can list the many ways and times we will miss them for the rest of our own lives. It can take on the strength of a litany of sorrows.
But, what if we consider that there are ways in which their lives were enough? . . . were in some way whole, despite the length ?
It takes time to even allow such considerations to enter a broken heart . . . but even a glimpse is a start.
his life was enough
his life was enough
enough to endlessly flood our hearts with memories
enough to imprint our souls with his tenderness
enough that his laughter echoes in our ears
and his smile lights up our eyes
his life was enough
enough to litter the world with friends
who treasure his part in who they are
enough to hear his whispers of encouragement and
feel his delight in our joy
his life was enough
his life is enough
entwined with ours
in wholeness, not days
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