A kindred spirit

It is so rare that I get to sit with another parent (other than Ted) who has lost a child. Max is always on my mind in one way or another and I still talk about him a lot - I just don't often get the chance to talk about how I feel without him very much. I sometimes wish I had more bereaved parent friends - which is obviously insane because I hate that there are actually people who share this status with me. But parents who've lost children are the only people who really get it - and so they are, in many ways, the only people who really get me.

My friend Molly has been in LA for the past few days and made time yesterday to come visit me. Even though we've only met in person once before, she is definitely a kindred spirit. She knows the subtext of my story without my having to spell it out and it makes me feel at ease and true in a way I can't feel with most people. There is no time when Max and Lucy aren't in our conversation, even when they aren't actively in our conversation. If you've lost a child, you know what I'm talking about (and I'm so sorry that you know what I'm talking about).

To be able to have Max so present through an interaction with a fellow human being is uplifting. It squashes the loneliness that I have felt with even my closest people ever since Max died. It makes me feel normal and reminds me that I am part of a community - one I never wanted to be part of but one full of people I love and understand and who get me. To tell you the truth, I wish we could all run away together and I could be surrounded by bereaved parents all of the time and I'd never have to explain why I'm still fragile, why sometimes big things feel really small and small things feel really big, or why every experience I have and decision I make is colored (for better or worse) by the fact that Max died when he was nine and half months old at daycare.

Whether she really understands this fact or not, Molly's loss of beautiful Lucy has lit a path to healing for me.  I'm grateful to know this amazing lady!