This has been a long hiatus without blogging. I have continued to write in my journal, but I keep some thoughts to myself. Even in my openness, there are thoughts and actions that I don’t share, feelings too complex and painful to expose to the world. I am flawed, and I don’t always share the deeper flaws and hurts and bad decisions.
Today was a beautiful day – a day that allowed us one more incrementally small step on the path of healing. Today, we dedicated our second Cuddle Cot to Park Ridge Health in Hendersonville. They received it with such grace and gratitude that my tired, aching heart healed just a tiny bit.
So much pain in this journey but so much beauty too.
There was a small reception for us complete with a delicious dessert buffet. The girls were thrilled that they were given carte blanche to eat fruit and chocolate chip cookies. They laughed, spun around in the office chairs, and charmed all that were present. They were also extremely well-behaved, standing quietly while I told our story.
Many different departments were represented including administration, surgery, the Baby Center, pediatrics care team members, one of the CFOs, and our friends from the Mountain Area Pregnancy Center. They also filmed us speaking and interviewed us afterwards.
We were asked us to say a few words about our experience and why the Cuddle Cot was so important to us. I spoke about James’s life, about his death, visitation, and burial, about his memory, about the ways that we want to honor and remember him. We told them what a gift the Cuddle Cot was for us. There were few dry eyes in the room.
Everyone there thanked us afterwards with an earnestness that brought tears to my eyes. They are so incredibly grateful for this gift that it made my heart glad. Their intent to help bereaved parents is so clear. Though the use of a Cuddle Cot comes in a dark time for a parent, it also brings light with it – a light that can illuminate that healing is possible, that though the road is long and dark and sudden, there is hope at the end. There is always hope. James is giving other families that hope.
Days like today remind me that one day, it will be ok. It won’t be great. It will never cease to hurt. But James lives on. His memory inspires us. His legacy helps other families take that first step onto the path of healing. We honor him in our hearts every day. His name will not be forgotten for a very long time.