I thought you'd be encouraged to hear how Lindsay's life keeps speaking volumes:
Dear Bill,
I was asked to write an article for the TCF newsletter for Redlands about my feelings as I walked through Lindsay's illness and ultimate death with you.
The article will be sent to about 250 Christian, Jewish, and non-Christian bereaved families as well as area professionals. I wanted to share this article with you. I hope you like it.
PLEASE, DON'T LET IT BE WASTED
I remember the moment vividly. We were driving toward Kansas when my cell phone rang. It was Bill, the Executive Director of America’s Keswick where we spend our summers. On April 7 his 22 month old granddaughter Lindsay had undergone open heart surgery. I had just read on her blog that morning that she was doing much better and had even taken a short ride in a hospital wagon. However, as I heard Bill’s voice, I knew something was terribly wrong. Bill explained that Lindsay had experienced cardiac arrest just shortly before he called on April 15. The medical staff was able to revive her, but, of course, the situation was critical. For the next month, the family experienced the typical roller coaster that many of us have gone through. One day Lindsay was showing improvement, the next moment Lindsay would have a set back and her condition was dire. On May 16 Lindsay went to Heaven with her family present. Her pain was over, but her family’s forever pain was just beginning.
Have you noticed how detailed my report is? I sound like a bereaved parent, don’t I? Well, of course, you know that I am a bereaved parent, and I felt like a bereaved parent as we walked through this difficult journey with Bill’s family. I remember the dates of the significant events just as her family would.
Mostly, I remembered…. I remembered the shock, the pain, the prayers, the confusion, and the frustration of the roller coaster…all of the emotions that a bereaved parent goes through.
I also remember my prayer, Dear Lord, Please don’t let Lindsay die. I know the pain, and I know the journey the family will have to walk. Father, I don’t think I can handle the pain I will see in the family’s eyes.
Does that sound like a selfish prayer? Perhaps it was, but I have been there. I know the journey the family will walk through. Oh, how I wish I didn’t know. I describe someone who has experienced the loss of a family member as one who has lost their innocence. I don’t want any of my friends to qualify for that description.
As my three children died, I prayed the same prayer each time, Don’t let this be wasted. I have had a chance to talk with some of Lindsay’s family and to share my books with them. My boys will be remembered as I share my story and what I have learned along the way. Their lives have not been wasted.
While I never want anyone to experience the pain of losing a child, I am grateful that I can be available to take their hand and say,
TAKE ONE STEP, JUST ONE STEP,
THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO DO TODAY.
TAKE ONE STEP, JUST ONE LITTLE STEP
BY REACHING OUT YOUR HAND TO SOMEONE ELSE.
SOME OF US HAVE WALKED THIS PATH BEFORE YOU,
IT’S A ROUGH PATH, A VERY, VERY TOUGH PATH,
BUT WE CAN MAKE IT.
HANG ON TO ME AND I’LL HANG ON TO YOU.
WE MAY STUMBLE, WE MAY EVEN FALL.
BUT WE’LL GET UP AGAIN,
AND WE’LL START WITH JUST ONE STEP,
YOUR HANDS LINKED WITH MINE.
WE’LL MAKE IT. YES, WE CAN MAKE IT.
ALL OF US TOGETHER,
JUST ONE STEP AT A TIME.
A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION, By Marilyn Willett Heavilin, July, 1995
This article was written in memory of Lindsay Alice Groen, June 14, 2006 to May 16, 2008
Dear Bill,
I was asked to write an article for the TCF newsletter for Redlands about my feelings as I walked through Lindsay's illness and ultimate death with you.
The article will be sent to about 250 Christian, Jewish, and non-Christian bereaved families as well as area professionals. I wanted to share this article with you. I hope you like it.
PLEASE, DON'T LET IT BE WASTED
I remember the moment vividly. We were driving toward Kansas when my cell phone rang. It was Bill, the Executive Director of America’s Keswick where we spend our summers. On April 7 his 22 month old granddaughter Lindsay had undergone open heart surgery. I had just read on her blog that morning that she was doing much better and had even taken a short ride in a hospital wagon. However, as I heard Bill’s voice, I knew something was terribly wrong. Bill explained that Lindsay had experienced cardiac arrest just shortly before he called on April 15. The medical staff was able to revive her, but, of course, the situation was critical. For the next month, the family experienced the typical roller coaster that many of us have gone through. One day Lindsay was showing improvement, the next moment Lindsay would have a set back and her condition was dire. On May 16 Lindsay went to Heaven with her family present. Her pain was over, but her family’s forever pain was just beginning.
Have you noticed how detailed my report is? I sound like a bereaved parent, don’t I? Well, of course, you know that I am a bereaved parent, and I felt like a bereaved parent as we walked through this difficult journey with Bill’s family. I remember the dates of the significant events just as her family would.
Mostly, I remembered…. I remembered the shock, the pain, the prayers, the confusion, and the frustration of the roller coaster…all of the emotions that a bereaved parent goes through.
I also remember my prayer, Dear Lord, Please don’t let Lindsay die. I know the pain, and I know the journey the family will have to walk. Father, I don’t think I can handle the pain I will see in the family’s eyes.
Does that sound like a selfish prayer? Perhaps it was, but I have been there. I know the journey the family will walk through. Oh, how I wish I didn’t know. I describe someone who has experienced the loss of a family member as one who has lost their innocence. I don’t want any of my friends to qualify for that description.
As my three children died, I prayed the same prayer each time, Don’t let this be wasted. I have had a chance to talk with some of Lindsay’s family and to share my books with them. My boys will be remembered as I share my story and what I have learned along the way. Their lives have not been wasted.
While I never want anyone to experience the pain of losing a child, I am grateful that I can be available to take their hand and say,
TAKE ONE STEP, JUST ONE STEP,
THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO DO TODAY.
TAKE ONE STEP, JUST ONE LITTLE STEP
BY REACHING OUT YOUR HAND TO SOMEONE ELSE.
SOME OF US HAVE WALKED THIS PATH BEFORE YOU,
IT’S A ROUGH PATH, A VERY, VERY TOUGH PATH,
BUT WE CAN MAKE IT.
HANG ON TO ME AND I’LL HANG ON TO YOU.
WE MAY STUMBLE, WE MAY EVEN FALL.
BUT WE’LL GET UP AGAIN,
AND WE’LL START WITH JUST ONE STEP,
YOUR HANDS LINKED WITH MINE.
WE’LL MAKE IT. YES, WE CAN MAKE IT.
ALL OF US TOGETHER,
JUST ONE STEP AT A TIME.
A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION, By Marilyn Willett Heavilin, July, 1995
This article was written in memory of Lindsay Alice Groen, June 14, 2006 to May 16, 2008
