Last week I wrote about remember my mom, who passed away eleven years ago.
Thirteen years ago today, Katherine Diane (K.D.), passed from this world into the next. For Heather and I, it was the darkest day of our lives. The depth of the sorrow we experienced that day is truly beyond words.
As I consider that day, I am reminded of the last moments of K.D.‘s life. She was in her hospital bed, tubes and wires all over her body. Dozens of machines lining a wall behind her tiny head. Heather stood on one side, holding her hand. I stood on the opposite side, playing with her tiny fingers. A few friends stood there with us as we watched a nurse turn off the machines that were keeping her alive. As the machines went silent, we began to sing.
Jesus loves me, this I know.
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to him belong.
They are weak but He is strong.
Her chest rose and fell with each breath. And then, it simply stopped. It seemed like the world paused. The nurse had pulled a curtain across our area to give us privacy, and yet it seemed like the entire neonatal ICU had gone silent for that brief second as K.D. breathed her final breath.
Those of us who stood there will later suggest that we felt Heaven open up. For a brief second, the place was overwhelmingly peaceful. God was in the room. And, K.D. went home with him.
In the thirteen years since that day, people have often asked me how I know that God is real. How is it that I can believe so strongly in my heart that Heaven is real. I can’t do nothing but simply point to that day. The day Heaven opened up, and God said to Heather and I, “Trust me.”
We have done just that. Oh, there are days we grieve. I wonder what K.D. would be like as a teenager. I try to picture what her personality would have been like. In the seven months that she was alive, we had begun to get a little taste of what she was like, but her personality was still developing.
Many of you reading these words have gone through grief. You’ve lost loved ones. You wonder if there’s any point to it. You feel the pain every day. I know what you are going through.
For me, God has been my source of strength and peace. He has given me hope that one day I will see my baby again. As I continue on this journey called life, K.D., along with my mom, dance together on streets of gold, enjoying a place void of pain and heartache. They smile and they wait, ready to welcome me home one day.
I love you, my baby girl.
