Tripp

    Years ago my mom told me that when we kids were very young, a husband and father of young children from my parents' church passed away, leaving his wife a widow and single mother. On the way home from church my mom sobbed and my dad, bewildered, tried to comfort her. It wasn't that my mom knew the man very well. It was because it hit so close to home. If my dad passed away, my mom would have been in the same boat -- a very scary and painful thought.

    I've seen my dad cry twice and one of those times doesn't really count because he was teary-eyed and it was when he was giving me away at my wedding. The other time was when the daughter of one of our parishioners died after having a brain aneurism in her sleep. She was 27. Her father was stoic during the funeral, as I imagined my dad would be if I passed away. He always says tears at a funeral aren't necessary because that person is in heaven. But when my dad went to give his condolences to this man, I was taken aback when my dad grabbed him into a hug and with tears in his eyes whispered, "It's okay... it's okay..." I think he was saying it more for himself. Too close to home.

     I was wasting time on Pinterest as usual when I came across a photo that gave me pause. It was of a little baby with what looked like burn marks on its face and hands and its mother kissing its forehead. So I clicked on it to see what the story was.

It brought me to "EB-ing a Mommy: The Challenging Yet Rewarding Journey of Caring for My Son with EB". Courtney gave birth to Tripp May 14, 2009 and he was born with epidermolysis bullosa, a disease that affects the skin, which makes contact with anything very very painful and produces terrible blisters. Most babies born with this disease don't live very long.

I read Courtney's story about Tripp and I started crying. I was surprised at how angry I was that this poor, defenseless baby was suffering so much, that his mother couldn't hold him without hurting him, that Courtney ended up getting a divorce from Tripp's father. I have had people ask me why God let's bad things happen and it's never phased me. This time I was the one asking "Why?" It's not fair. But like my Granddad used to say, "Whoever said life was fair?"

     I left a message for Courtney and then clicked on her blog. To my horror I discovered that Tripp passed away just 3 days ago and that yesterday was the funeral. I decided to send Courtney an email apologizing for leaving a comment as though Tripp was still alive and when I typed the words, "Tripp had passed away" I broke down, sobbing. I couldn't catch my breath I was crying so hard. I cried as though it was my own baby that had died.

And then I understood what had happened to my mom all those years ago and to my dad not so long ago.

    When I saw Tripp's pictures, when I read his story, he was my baby. It was so very personal. I can't imagine someone telling me Jr. won't live past the age of 1, the way the doctors told Courtney. I can't imagine not being able to hug Jr. tight. I can't imagine planning my baby girl's funeral. I can't imagine, I can't imagine, I can't imagine.

    Just as I finished writing the email to Courtney, Jr. woke up from her nap. I tried to pull it together before I went in to get her but as soon as I picked her up from her crib I started crying all over again. And you know what? No word of a lie, she gave me a big kiss and put her hand on my cheek.

   When hubby came home we enjoyed the rare occurrence of eating dinner with Jr. (normally she eats earlier). After our usual how-was-your-day conversation, I tried as nonchalantly as I could to tell my husband about Tripp. I figured he would be sober about it but not affected like I was. As I told him I stared down in my plate so I wouldn't cry and to my surprise, when I looked up he had tears in his eyes. He looked over at Jr. and then at me and we both cried.

We're glad you're with God now, Tripp and we're praying for you, Courtney.