May 12, 2008 10:45 AM
Rest in Peace
The Episcopal deacon put his left hand on top of my daughter's head, and drew a cross on her forehead with his right thumb. He gave her a blessing, as she wept quietly. He read a bible verse to us--my daughter, dh and I, and the three other teenagers sitting on my living room floor, heads bowed in silence. It was Friday. The worst day of her life so far.
DD lost two friends on Friday, May 9th. The pain appears endless and excruciating. I have been that young adult. I cannot tell her the pain will pass, because it won't. I tell her it will just becomes something else in time--a duller pain, a memory. Something that she will carry inside of her for the rest of her life. Just not so close to the surface, as it is right now.
We parents stand by helplessly, offering food and hugs and rides to wherever they wish to gather next. We don't want them to drive, because we know this pain comes in unpredictable waves. We want to take away their suffering, and go through it for them, so that they will all be okay, like they were earlier that day before the news broke. Like teenagers less than two weeks away from graduation. But we can't. We tell them their friends are with them forever, and that they are in God's arms now. And we look into their empty eyes and beg God to give them some peace. Just a moment of peace.
