Several days ago, my friend Dorothea unexpectedly and without preparation lost her one-month-old son in her arms due to a congenital heart defect. Sorrow rushed me and tears endlessly streamed from me in an attempt to leave me with an emptiness that I didn’t reach. I feel so much sorrow at this incomprehensible mark of fate that my beloved friend must face. I feel so helpless because she’s several thousand miles away and I feel I can do nothing to help her rise each morning, perhaps selfishly, because usually I know that she’s out there somewhere breathing for me.
I say that because she’s always come with the most digestible wisdom. In fact, I couldn’t help but be in awe of her even during this most treacherous time for her spirit because as she told me of her loss she said, “…his heart was just too big… I knew he’d be too sensitive for this world.” I can’t get the thought out of my head that her little angel passed away because his heart was simply too big for this often seemingly heartless world. But who will breathe for Dorothea? Among other loved ones, it is her daughter, Aidan, for whom she rises.
Though I never met Devon, I feel some love has been taken from me. I assume it’s because in spite of the years and the distance that have kept us apart, I have so much love for Dorothea. And I love her husband, though maybe a little less. And while I met her only once, I fell instantly in love with their determined daughter as quickly as my heart cracked like frozen glass gently tapped with a seemingly inconsequential stone when I heard about Aidan’s brother. Dorothea, in the hail storm of emotions she’s been left to the past few days, offered to me solace in that she still has gratitude because they “…were really lucky that he couldn’t sleep in his Bassinet so we had the chance to hold him so much…” Though I know Dorothea has had a maelstrom of emotions, it is this splendid insight that she possesses in life that endears me to her always.
It’s at these times that you can not convince me that everything happens for a reason, or at least a good one. I am helpless to heal my beautiful friend or to provide her with anything meaningful during this time of absolute madness. So instead, I’ll ask of you, when you don’t get a smile from the store clerk, or someone cuts you off on the road, or you’re frustrated with your partner’s inability to comprehend the house rules… please, remember, there are graver things that could be happening to you at this moment. If Dorothea can find a blessing in her grief, than surely, you can give a little love to the source of your frustration and we can maybe, for one moment, live in a world worthy of little Devon.
My highest hopes for all of you,
Amy
www.amyarena.com
PS If you’re in Detroit, please, attend tonight’s United Peace Relief Detroit Meeting at 4203 Lincoln St. in Woodbridge to make Seed Bombs and put a little love for Devon into the seeds. The Seed Bombs will raise money for the relief organization and also permit people to toss a little vegetation and start a bit of life wherever they please!
