Tears of others

"The hurt will never go away, but it will get easier," a sweet man spoke through fresh tears after seeing pictures of Molly on my phone. I was at a wedding in Loveland for a friend of mine where I met the parents of a friend of mine on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ. Sitting in the church waiting for the wedding to start, my friend Jessica asks me how I am doing, and listens with a tender heart as I share with her what I tell everyone. It's one day at a time, one foot forward as we continue to grieve and mourn our loss of sweet Molly. She tells me next that she has new perspective for what we are going through because her parents lost their firstborn son, Dillon, three months before he was supposed to be born.

I meet her parents briefly before the wedding starts and then at the reception her mom comes to sit by me and tells me through tears that she would like to hear more about our Molly. She doesn't say a word about her own loss, just listens as I tell her a brief version of Molly's story. And then I show her pictures from my phone and her husband comes over to look as well. They are precious as they look at just a third of Molly's black and white photos. She gives me the phone back and with tears in her eyes tells me that I'll always be Molly's mommy and how beautiful she is. I am so proud! I don't cry, but instead beam with the biggest smile as I relish in sharing her story and her beautiful pictures to another person.

Jessica's dad stays behind me as his wife goes back to her chair across the table from me. For several seconds I don't realize he's still there wiping his eyes and sniffing. I turn around to thank him for his tears and he kneels by my chair and puts his arm around my shoulders. He tells me he's so sorry for our loss. That it will never go away but that it would get easier. His tears tell me that the pain is still there for him, over 28 years later, and that he knows the pain that I feel more than anyone else at our table. His eyes are bright, even through tears, and he smiles and tells me what I already know about a new perspective on life and heaven.

I love seeing the tears of others. It is so beautiful and dear. Tears communicate so much to us. When people feel free to share their tears with us it tells us that they are walking with us and sharing our burden with us, even though they may have never lost a child.

Tears are sweet. They are gentle and loving. And I love to see the tears of others.


Sarah said…
I wish you could see the tears on the picture I have of you printed out kissing Molly.
Linds said…
Becca I am so proud of you and Jake both, and have cried many tears and many nights for both of you and for your families. What a sweet moment that couple had with you, and what an incredible blessing! Know we pray for you daily!
Abbie said…
I found your blog through a link that JB put on her blog. I'm so sorry for the pain that you and Jacob have had to endure. I pray that the God of all comfort would sustain you as you grieve. Thank you for sharing your journey via your blog.
With love in Christ,
Christy said…
Beautifully written my sweet girl. I love you.
Christy said…
PS. That picture...there are no words!
Judy N said…
Having caught a small glimpse of this beautiful moment, I am moved again to read your recollection. Still want to send you the pdf of your piece. I'll get your email.

Great to be with you, Rebecca.

mommidwest said…
The comment the man made to you is a true one. I lost my 2nd son to SIDS in 1980. I still miss him and wonder what he would be like. Some days I still cry when I think of him. I cry for me not for him for I know where he is and that through God's grace I will get to spend eternity with him!!!
Oh, sweet girl, if you could see me now, you would see my tears. I am so sorry for the pain of missing Molly and Micah, and so eager to see your joy in a few short months.
Elaine said…
I have just cried many tears for you and me as I read this post. I lost my little Molly Grace on Oct 31st last year when she was stillborn. I was given your book shortly after. I read it in two days. Thank you for writing the book. Since then, I have been following your blog.
Today my husband and I finally picked out a grave stone for Molly. It is something we just didn't want to do. I wanted to let you know that we used the same words that you put on your Molly's grave: We cannot Lord Thy purpose see, but all is well that's done by Thee.
Thank you for sharing your story. You have helped me in my journey of grief.
Anonymous said…
Just finished your beautiful book -- and I can't wait to give it to my daughter. Her firstborn arrived at 19 weeks and died within a few minutes. My daughter and son-in-law kept little Elias with them for 26 hours. All four of his grandparents held him and cherished him also. My daughter's first daughter, Elianna, was born a year later at 23 weeks. She lived for 18 hours in the NICU. Again, all four grandparents visited little Elianna, and we were so sure she would be God's tiny miracle of life. After she died, her parents kept her with them for two days. It was so hard to say good-bye. Five months later, our adoptive granddaughter, Tahlia, was born at 31 weeks. My daughter and son-in-law were able to spend all their time with her. And my daughter had pumped every 3 hours around the clock since Elianna was born. So she was able to give Tahlia and herself the wonderful gift of breastfeeding. Tahlia is God's wonderful miracle and gift to her parents and to the whole family! We are so grateful to her courageous birthmother. In December, little Maura died at 10 weeks in my daughter's womb. We are still praying that God will indeed bless this wonderful family with a healthy baby brother or sister for Tahlia.
Thanks to you and your mother for such a wonderful book of faith and love for your Molly. And thank you for your blog which I have just started reading.
A grandmother of four -- three in Heaven with our Lord, and one to treasure and love here on earth.

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