Good Bye Gracie

It all began when Coby was in the NICU. There was a luncheon for NICU parents monthly, sort of a support group. At my first luncheon I met Caty. Her daughter Grace ("Gracie") was born just two weeks after Coby. We became fast friends. Caty is from Nicaragua and her husband, who was from the Czech Republic, abandoned her when he found out she was pregnant. She has a sister here in Utah, but their relationship at the time was strained. I had told Caty that if she ever needed anything from me to just ask.

When our babies were about five months old Caty explained to me that she had no where to go because of her relationship with her sister at the time. After deliberation, Russ and I invited her into our home. Caty and Gracie quickly became family. She lived with us for over a year. Our babies shared their first and second Christmas' together. To this day, if ever we have a large enough home, we would LOVE for Caty to stay with us again.

Gracie had many more medical problems than Coby. They didn't expect Gracie to survive birth, much less five years. Over the past few years I've received a handful of calls from Caty letting me know that the doctors didn't expect her to last the night. Gracie always proved them wrong.

Today, I received the final call.

I really felt I could handle the situation, that I could be strong for my friend. As I walked into her room at Primary Children's, I knew looking at Gracie that she was not there, that it was just her earthly shell, her earthly prison really. But as I watched my friend, my sister, mourn the loss of her child, my heart broke in two. I do not grieve for Gracie, but I grieve for my friend and her loss. I imagined my own children, and how torturous it would be if I were in this situation. How can any mother imagine rocking their lifeless child, laying her on the bed, giving one last kiss, and walking away.

Today, I rejoice for Gracie, released from her terrible prison, into the arms of a loving Heavenly Father. Today, I mourn with my friend for her loss.

Death brings such a fresh perspective on life. As I'm about to walk upstairs and kiss each one of my sleeping children, I hope I can commit to making the most of every moment with them, yelling a lot less, loving a lot more. They are such blessings; let us not forget. Please kiss your sweet children and every moment thank Heavenly Father for the blessings that they are.