DADDY, CARRY ME

Tuesday was the 4th week since Kimmi had her surgery and coded, causing the brain damage and eventual death. It was a very bittersweet day of missing our little Baby girl, but rejoicing that she is with Jesus and no longer suffers in any way.

But, the day made me think of all three of my children, again especially Kimmi because she needed it the most. When the kids were little, they'd get tired going somewhere, and the words came out, "Daddy, carry me". When they were really little, Evey or I would pick them up and carry them (never understand how moms can carry a child for hours, but dads tire out after only a few minutes). Also, dad would pick them up onto his shoulders and carry them. After a minute or so, I'd jerk their legs up as if to push them off. They (especially Kimmi) would scream and hold tightly onto my head. Kimmi would say, "Daddy don't do that." But, I continue doing it, and they'd scream and laugh with complete joy (fearing a fall, but knowing completely that daddy would never let them fall). Eventually, they would get too big to carry, or dad got too old.

But, in Kimmi's case, since she was so tiny, I carried her on my shoulders up to about the age of eight or older. Even up to this last year, Kimmi would sit in Evey's lap while Evey would lift the back of her shirt and lovingly scratch her back. This was continued bonding, growing love and maintaining closeness.

However, in the last few months, Kimmi has been carrying her mom and dad by not letting us know she was suffering. Just like we lifted her up to carry her, she carried us by hiding her pain as it got worse and worse.

Even after her death, Rob, Craig and their families carried mom and dad through the terrible shock and loss. I don't know what we would have done if not for them to run things for us (doing obituary, taking care of details, making decisions, and encouraging and loving us through this tragedy). We were completely lost while they did just about everything to carry us through this. In these past weeks, they'd call us to make sure we were ok, cry with us, and encourage us in every way.

But, we also have a daddy that we cried out to, "Daddy, carry me." Where else could we turn, but to the one who allowed our baby to die. Yes, if not for our Father in heaven, there is absolutely no way we could ever live through this. There is no way we could ever find peace in our baby's death if not for our relationship with our daddy "God".