Losing a child is probably the most tragic event that can happen in a person’s life. It is a pain that never goes away. It may become duller over time, but then some date or memory will bring it back with a vengeance that threatens to rip your world apart all over again.

Today would have been my son Sean’s 27th birthday; unfortunately, he is not here to celebrate the day he entered our lives; the last one he enjoyed was ten years ago. Birthday’s are incredibly hard. I wonder so many things, where he would be, the man he would become, the life that he would have built for himself. 17 is such a short time to have lived, a life cut short when it was just beginning.

It is difficult to remember that God’s plan for us is the right one when my heart misses my son more than I can express. There have been times when I have been so angry with God when I have screamed at him for taking my son from us. Why would he take a child from his mother and sisters? It is something that I cannot comprehend and wonder at the mercy of our Lord.

My grandmother never questioned but continued to believe, even after losing her young daughter to leukemia. Her faith sustained her throughout her life, carried her through the mountains and valleys of a long, beautiful life. I try to remember her example but fear that I do not have the same grace she had. For me, birthdays will always be hard.