Letting Go, But Not Forgetting

The funeral was the worst. As I walked up to the funeral home, his dad was standing outside, and I gave him a big hug. I’d never met him before this tragedy. As tears streamed down his face and his shirt was drenched in sweat, I hugged him tightly as my own tears fell on his shoulder. I told him how sorry I was and how I knew nothing I could say would make any of this okay. I thought I would going to pass out before I even walked into that building. My heart was pounding so hard and I thought I was going to have a panic attack.

As I walked up to the casket, my heart fell into my stomach. As his small body lay there in his little white suit with his baby blue bow tie, he looked so peaceful. I cried. I actually bawled. I knew when I looked at that lifeless body that he was sitting on God’s lap that very moment. He was in no more pain. He probably didn’t even know what was going on down here on Earth.

After viewing the tiny body, we took our seats and waited for the ceremony to start. Then I saw her. I couldn’t believe she actually had the nerve to show up. She was crying like she actually cared. I wanted to stand up and scream and tell all those people the truth. Tell everyone what really happened that day. They all hugged her and looked at her with sympathy. I looked at her with disgust. I knew the truth.

His sisters were at the funeral. He had 3. The youngest one, closest to his age, went up to the casket to say goodbye. She cried, and cried, and cried. She cried through the whole funeral. Even at the age of 3, children understand loss. She understood that her brother was not there anymore. She knew that was the last time she would see his face.  I have never felt so heart broken, angry, sad, and disgusted all at once. I wanted to pick up his little body out of that casket and tell him that I tried. I wanted to tell him that I am sorry. I wanted to hug him one more time.

It’s been 3 months and I am still suffering from the aftermath of this event. I have not gone a day without thinking about the day that he drowned. I have not gone one day without thinking about how she let it happen. I drove past his house. I had to. I saw the scene flash through my mind. I saw the fence where the search team and police had to bust in. I saw how empty the house seemed. I almost watched myself walking through the front yard after finding his body. I remember every detail of that day. I lose sleep over that day. I dream about holding him, hugging him, rubbing his tummy, and loving him. If only I had a dream catcher that actually worked.

I am still being interviewed and investigated over this tragedy- constantly reliving this nightmare. This real-life nightmare.

I had to go to the house again to have her sign a paper. I hope that is the last time I will ever see her. She was so rude. She had the audacity to ask me how I planned on investigating myself- as if it was my fault she let him drown.

The only positive that has come out of this tragedy, is that I have really been able to dig deep and search my soul. I have really been seeking forgiveness in my heart for what has happened. I know that I must forgive and I am on my journey to forgiveness. Jesus has forgiven me even when I don’t deserve it, so I must forgive her. I must forgive myself.

Proverbs 20:24 says, The Lord directs our steps, so why try to understand everything along the way?”

I am not going to try and understand the why’s and the what if’s of this unthinkable tragedy. God’s ways are not our ways. I am using this devastation to grow closer to Him, and cling to Him like he asks. He promises that if we draw closer to Him, He will draw closer to us. (James 4:8). I am finally to the point that I don’t cry about it when I talk about it. Maybe it’s because I’ve had to talk about it so much. Healing is hard. Moving forward is hard. But it is possible with God. I could not have done this without Him.

Matthew 19:14, “Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'”

It is time for me to let go and move on. Moving on does not mean I will forget. I will never forget you, baby boy. I will see you again someday in the arms of Jesus!



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