We became grandparents
While I was still pregnant myself
On an unusually hot spring day last October
When our son and his sweet heart
Told us
There was to be a baby in 8 months.
He was born at 23 weeks
Barely longer than his daddy’s hand-span
And lived for 22 days.
I never got to sing to him, read to him, play with him – or tell him about Jesus. But I think he knew Jesus better than me.
I did get to speak to him.
Seven words in total for his life and
I did get to kiss him.
Twice.
Enveloped by eternity
I bent to his face
While his parents watched on in such love
Though my heart broke
I knew he was going to be alright.
How could you go into the company of the Lord and not be alright?
It was his mum and dad I was worried for.
My last ever word to Elijah at my second, and last ever kiss, was not goodbye – but
‘Remember’
I wanted to speak of his future
To ask someone to remember means
That they
go
TO
a future.
We will remember
And so will he
We’ll find him healthy and strong
And vibrant and free
When each of our ‘times’ will come too.
So much hope in one word.