In life there are so many things we can be fearful of. Some seem irrational like small spaces, loud noises like fireworks shows, or even the little itty-bitty spiders that to some say, “it’s more afraid of you than you of it.” I think my granny (noises) and my mom (spiders) would beg to differ.
When it comes to writing, fear can grind us to a halt. We are afraid of what some might say about our writing. Or we won’t ever find an agent or publisher so why try. Or sometimes the strongest fears of all are what our family and friends will think about it.
If we let our fears paralyze us, we will stop doing what we love to do most. And that’s to write.
I know when I first began writing updates about how Mari was doing and any progress that had happen, whether good or bad, I just wrote. I needed to get them to everyone so we could have hundreds, if not thousands, of people praying for our little girl. It was my fear of losing Mari that spurred me on as I wrote.
At the top of this web page you can see her hospital story. Every day written was written while she was alive, except for one. July 16, 2008. This day will always be etched to my memory. So during that day as my life came to crashing halt, I didn’t write what was happening, especially when I sat there holding my beloved angel in my arms as she took her very last breath and her heart stopped. That day has me in tears even as I write this.
I sat in the room we were staying at in my husband‘s mom and dad’s house. It took me three very emotional cry-fest filled days to get my daughter‘s last day. Keith, my hubby, told me to stop. That I didn’t need to do it now. I told him that I had to get everything down while it was fresh so I didn’t forget anything. It was too important not to do this. It didn’t matter that it made me relive those moments. It didn’t matter if I cried the whole time doing it. I had to get this done.
So in this case the fear of losing my daughter did come true, but I didn’t let it stop me. And God had a plan for all those notes I wrote for friends and family, and especially that last day. Those notes were to help me to take them and turn them into a memoir so that other people who have lost someone, and especially a child, they will then be able to read Mari’s story and know someone else out there really does understand what they are going through.
So I didn’t let my fear stop me. I used my fear to propel me forward.
I can’t read your posts at work because you always bring me to tears. Your journey is the saddest thing I have ever read, but I commend you for the strength you have to find laughter, joy and hope in all that pain. I never lost a child (except an early miscarriage) but I know that is the worst loss any person could ever endure. Your strength through your tears is an testament of love between you and Mari. Thank you for letting me be a part of it. I hope that if I ever have a tragedy like this or someone I know does, that I remember to look back at your blog to find hope.