Miscarry
My mother was pregnant six times. Three times she miscarried, three times she
bore children, me and my two sisters.
Sometimes I wonder what my mother thought about the three that
did not live. I am sure that she was sad
to lose them. I also think about the
three that did not come to be. Were they
my brothers or sisters? Would they look
like me? Think like me? Would we have gone into business
together? Did I take their turn at
life? Maybe their souls went into other
children that were born.
In the same way I think of our three lovely children whom I
love very much. I hear of families with
16 children and I think that we could have had more. Many more.
My wife says, no, no, no more.
But I think of the other 13 that we did not have. What would their names be? Would they find love in this life? Would they bring joy to others? Where are they? Where are their souls?
I pause to think. And
I realize that the resolution to this is to see every child as my own. Mike Scott’s children- my children. Wendy’s children- mine. The neighbor’s children, mine. Random children at the store, in the mall,
even screaming on an airplane- my children.
In this way, we learn to love all children, and so, all
people.
1 comment:
To a very hotly contested issue in our country, I believe your miscarried siblings lived on, but in Heaven. I like to think that their heavenly bodies are complete and whole and look like our heavenly bodies will. You'll get to meet them when you get to Heaven. How fun will that be?
Post a Comment