This Isn’t Grief

Posted: 15 in Lost & Found

This isn’t grief.

Sarah Elizabeth may have never cried, chortled, or cooed. She never laughed, giggled, or stomped the ground in anger. But she did lend me her heart, her soul so that as I raised sons, her voice could be heard. So that as I emerged from the dark, she lent me her hand to see peace, glory, and beauty in my surroundings, my heart, and in others.

I celebrate the life that grew inside me privately on a daily basis and openly on the day she emerged into this world, her spirit already taken. I honor her with pink carnations and have long before I knew their symbolism. Before I knew carnations represent eternal love, grief, and loyalty. Before I discovered pink symbolizes innocence, gentleness, calm, peace, tranquility, serenity, and trust.

It’s been twenty-eight years since that cold, wet, stormy December day when Sarah was taken from me. But what I experience as her mother, she as my daughter, is no longer grief.

Sarah Elizabeth was never meant for this planet. If she had, neither of us would be alive today. I cannot grieve this. How can I grieve knowing that I’ve actually seen, felt, connected with my guardian angel? How can I grieve knowing that her presence has guided me for the past twenty-eight years? That her being has lent me counsel as I raised sons, teaching them the importance of a rich, healthy, respectful, and responsible relationship with women? That the physical loss of a loved one means to not take life and all which is, for granted? That disappointment can be reshaped into a deeper love and understanding of oneself and those touching upon one’s life no matter how short of a span that is? How can I grieve when without experiencing the profound sense of loss I would not have had exponential understanding?

Yes, I celebrate my daughter, Sarah Elizabeth. She means the world to me. I cannot ignore nor deny the profound effect her existence has had upon me–and indirectly–upon you. So when I take a day to honor her, please join me. It is because of her that you know me. It is because of Sarah Elizabeth I am the person that I am today. It is because of my daughter that I value my life, your life, and the world we live in. Let us not grieve her loss. Instead, we shall celebrate all that she’s brought into our lives.

This is not grief.

This is the gift of my daughter, Sarah Elizabeth.

  1. Beautiful Gift … Her Life, and Yours.