Yesterday this time I was flat on my back in bed with a fever and cold symptoms. I am thankful though that the tummy bug the middle and oldest boy had, has escaped me. I’d rather have a runny nose than a tummy bug.
I can’t remember when last I had such a high temperature though (103) and as is so typical to my stoic self, I refused to take meds until late last night. By that time I realised that I was so hot that I wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep if I didn’t do something about it.
The two youngest boys were very cuddly and kept on coming in to snuggle up to my hot (I wish I could say figuratively 🙂 ) self. I had a good conversation with the youngest about Jenna. They all miss her terribly.
The boys were a tad too clingy yesterday though and I found out why when I took my temperature in their presence. The middle boy said: “Mom! You have to go to the doctor! People can die from high temperatures!” I assured him that I was going to be fine, that this was just a bad cold that has been going round our church.
Poor kid. He often says that if he had a time machine he would go back and just give Jenna a hug and a kiss goodbye. He says he knows God has a reason why Jenna had to go and he doesn’t want to interfere with that. (Isn’t that precious?) I wish for that last hug and kiss too – Jenna left us so unexpectedly.
I spent the evening before last surfing websites about the grief of losing a child. I found some common misconceptions about grief that I might share here at some point. All of the places I went to, and my own feeling as I am just beginning this road, seem to be in agreement on one thing. There is healing in keeping Jenna’s memory alive and remembering her as part of our family as opposed to ‘getting over it’. I am sure that with time, the periods of sadness will become patchy and pop up only once in a while. But I will always miss my little girl. She is flesh of my flesh, after all.
I remember how surprised I was once when my grandmother, then in her eighties, mentioned that it was her oldest, stillborn son’s birthday that day. Sixty-something years later, she was still remembering her lost son. I now understand. Jenna will always be a part of me. The grief will abate somewhat but boy, I am looking forward to seeing her in heaven.