Tag: death

  • Being There

    One of my dearest friends lost her 28-year-old son-in-law to cancer yesterday. He and his wife, her daughter, celebrated their three year wedding anniversary only four months ago. These two kids spent almost half their marriage dealing with cancer. Imagine that. I don’t mind telling you that my husband and I conducted their wedding and […]

  • Tribulation is Treasure

    Like many others who have lost children, I changed most in my thinking about what matters.

  • The First Year

    For the first month after my daughter died, every day I woke up feeling heaviness and chest pain. Tears dithered behind my eyes constantly.

  • Her Dying Time | 4

    As Olivia weakened and her light began to fade after her last hospitalization, I found I couldn’t sleep or eat. A terrible tension hung over everyone as we awaited the inevitable.

  • A God of Deliverance

    A few weeks ago I wrote about the death of a family friend in a car accident, recalling a conversation at our dinner table later, during which one of my daughters asked, “Mom, why didn’t God save her?” I told her at the time that I didn’t know if or how God was involved in […]

  • Her Dying Time | 3

    We didn’t tell our daughter that her hospitalizations were futile and would eventually end in complete renal failure and death. How can you tell your child such a thing? We didn’t even believe it ourselves, yet.

  • Her Dying Time | 2

    I knew in that moment, in the core of my being, that Olivia was going to die, and I sat in my car in the parking garage of the hospital that had become so familiar to us, and I cried and cried and cried.

  • Her Dying Time | 1

    Eight years ago today, my daughter was dying. We didn’t know when she would die or how long it would take, but we knew she was dying. The first week or so of August has been bittersweet since then, heralding the end of summer, the anniversary of one child’s adoption, the birthdays of our twins, […]

  • Senseless

    We never assume, “Today will be the last day of my life.” When my husband leaves in the morning, I never think, “I won’t see him alive again. Later tonight, I’ll have to go identify his body.” We do not drive to work in the morning thinking to ourselves, “Tonight I’ll accidentally kill someone.”