More Memories of Quinn

What followed Quinn's death was a blur. Family members were waiting for us back in our hospital room. The nurses brought our precious girl to us, all cleaned up and ready to be held, loved and admired. She wore a little white outfit printed with soft pink angels that had been Helen's. And then our kids came. We heard their excited voices in the hall.

How do you explain death to children?

We could do nothing but tell them the truth--that she was dead. There was something very wrong with Quinn's lungs, and she couldn't breathe on her own. Her body died, and her spirit went to live with Jesus in Heaven. Their hearts were broken. We gave them their gifts from Quinn; a Leapster case for Owen that his nosiness already knew he was getting, a cute doll for Helen that she named Nicholas, and a homemade hobby horse for Jack.

Auto-pilot kicked on and we smiled for family pictures. We passed Quinn around, savoring each moment, delaying the inevitable end.

Here we are, finally holding our baby!

Some sweet moments of Daddy and his little girl.


Gene helped out with positioning. I may have been having one of many wardrobe malfunctions.Our kids couldn't wait to hold her.
Our family for a moment in time.

We treasure our pictures. It's what we have. One of the kindest things our hospital did for us was to call a photographer, whom we happened to know! I can't imagine that it was easy for Abbie to take pictures, but we were so grateful she used her talents to give us such a priceless gift.

After all of my reminiscing, I would be absolutely lying to say I'm still overcome with grief. Of course some moments are still very hard, and not a day goes by that I don't think of my little girl. But slowly, surely, I've yielded my hurt to God, trusting Him with my heart. In spite of my stubbornness, He has done amazing things in my life.

I'm letting go of bitterness.
I'm learning to empathize with others in their pain--it doesn't scare me so bad anymore.
I'm reevaluating where I find satisfaction and what really matters.
I'm realizing that my children do not belong to me, but are merely entrusted to my care for a time.
I'm gripping hard to Truth--that Jesus, the Son of God, the Creator, has overcome Death and Hell, and His power is at work in me!

Stay tuned for pictures of Quinn's one-year birthday!

Shadows

I took this picture last December, a few days after my nephew Bryce was born, at a time when I felt thick pain all around me, as if it were a physical substance. It was everywhere I turned--I bumped into it in my kitchen as I was struggling to remember how to cook. I heard it in the surface chatter of friends.

I was also clinging to God as never before. No, let me say that I remember realizing that I couldn't even hold on--I had to trust him not to let me go. In those still, painful moments of quiet before God, He began to speak His truth to my heart. I felt his discipline, but I also felt his unfathomable love.

And so when I looked out from my kitchen window and saw that the suffocatingly grey sky had been transformed by the light piercing through the clouds and spilling itself over the dull earth, I was moved to tears. There is beauty in shadow.