Besides the still-devastating loss of our own beloved Levi, we keep hearing of SO much heartcrushing loss through suicide experienced by others around us over the past two years it just makes us sick at heart again and again.
It seems we, the bereaved parents, can never find as much human compassion and understanding as would ever satisfy the gnawing, aching hunger of our weary, shattered hearts. Though we may speak it on a surface level, it takes a while to fully realize to hope in fellow creatures will almost invariably disappoint; the true craving of our hurting hearts can ONLY ever be satiated in God (Psalm 42:1-11; 73:25-26).
But our hearts hurt more when we become aware of how our other children do suffer so, and are yet so easily overlooked in the whole process. Dear, sweet, well-intentioned souls have so often asked our kids, with the concern written on their faces, "how are your Mom and Dad doing since your brother passed?"
And yet never think to ask the still-hemorrhaging sibling right in front of them how THEY are.
I pray for them every day, and they are NEVER far from my thoughts and ever, ever present in my heart (as is their goofy, extraordinary, eternally lovable arachnophobe little brother).
Please don't forget the "forgotten mourners."
Great, thoughtful post from Melanie (actually, a RE-post, but I think well worthy of repetition).