A thousand tears

Today was supposed to have been a great day. I was going to spend part of the day in Boulder with the three girls from one of my book clubs, a book club field trip of sorts. We had searched for a day weeks ago, and had all cleared our schedules and set aside today as the day.

Instead, we watched our dear friend bury her precious, sweet daughter today. Oh, be still my soul.

It has been a painful, sad, heart-wrenching week. At the same time, there have been some uplifting, testimony-building moments. Out of respect for my friend, I do not wish to share her story of loss, but rather my experiences this week in mourning with one who mourns, and comforting one who stands in need of comfort.

I found out last Thursday that my dear friend Paula lost her beautiful and precious 5-month-old daughter Katherine unexpectedly when she laid her down for a morning nap, and she never awoke.

Paula, myself and the two other dear friends met more than 7 years ago, and have comprised a book club for 6 1/2 years. In that time, these girls have become like sisters to me. With the exception of Brian's family, none of us has any family nearby. Many times we have been family to each other: spending holidays together, countless get-togethers, dinners out, book club meetings, overnight trips, shopping, church functions, play dates and more. We have surely shouldered some heavy burdens over the years. But the loss of a child is unlike anything else.

The day after Katherine's passing, the three of us visited Paula and spent several hours with her. I will never forget those hours as long as I live, as our friend shared with us the horrendous and indescribable events of the previous day. I think we all (family and close friends) feel somewhat traumatized by things, although we were not physically there with her. There are some things I cannot get out of my head.

On Monday I brought dinner to Paula's family, and while Paula was not home, I was able to spend some time with her wonderful family. Tuesday evening was the visitation, which consisted solely of immediate family, and us three friends. Katherine looked beautiful in her sweet white dress and tiny pink ballet slippers. But seeing her there with a small, pink casket was more than my heart could bear. Yet I have been amazed at the strength and grace Paula has shown this week. She is a rock. You'd be hard-pressed to find a stronger example of faith, scripture knowledge, temple attendance and prayer. I feel so entirely inadequate to know that I have learned so much from her, in her hour of need.

The funeral and graveside dedication were today. Katherine was buried in a part of the cemetery reserved for small children, in which there is a beautiful statue of an angel carrying an infant heaven-ward. Paula had asked us girls to accompany her there to see it up close, and we were all so touched by this statue. Surely countless angels accompanied Katherine from this life to the next one last Thursday.

There are no words to describe witnessing two loving parents mourn the loss of their child. None. Yet I know that Paula and Mike - as have I- have already found much solace and peace in the gospel, knowing we have a loving Savior and Father in Heaven and there is a plan of salvation for each of us, and that we have the glorious blessing of eternal families.

As I sat with Paula several days ago, I remarked how strange it felt that the world kept moving as though nothing had happened, that it seemed as though everything should come to a standstill. "But it doesn't," she said. "It just keeps moving." The trick, I suppose, is finding out a way to once again move with it. I imagine it's a process that can be years in the making.

I love Paula like a sister, and still can't fully comprehend that Katherine is gone. I keep picturing that scene from Steel Magonolias where Sally Field's character is describing her daughter's death to her friends; all they can do is listen and cry, and then, after a bit, find a way to laugh, at which point Dolly Parton's character says, "laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." Because that, really, is what friends are for.

I pray for Paula, Mike and their 3 other children. To be comforted. To be healed. And to be together again someday.