I wash off the blood of a mother's broken and bleeding heart. As it falls into the basin I see you there, unable to move because the grief of burying the one you carried in your womb since you were fifteen. It hits you with a blow that tells you that you'll be crippled for life. The dirt from carrying your weeping body to the grave of your girl splashes down as I find a moment to clear my mind. It's hard to believe it's been almost a week since that car smashed into your little body on your way to find us at the office. It's been a blur of concrete floors, sleepless nights and a harrowing hospital where you breathed your last. We didn't sleep the first night. We had to take shifts to hold your broken body from pulling the little support that held you. When you survived the journey to the government hospital in the capital, hope found me strong. After hours of talking with the nurses and doctors, seeing if we were doing all that we could, questions upon questions, seeking out the best options... after all the hours of prayers I poured over your body, tears I wept into your dark skin, moments of despair met with the Word of God... hours reporting to the family, contacting surgeons, monitoring, reporting, monitoring, weeping, finding your sweet presence in the nothingness and then the end. Praying over a lifeless and bloated body, resuscitation, breathing life into your mouth, praying desperate prayers of faith but it ending in nothing but pain and loss. Ending in grief that knocks the wind out of you. Ending in sleepless nights and pain that finds you in the darkest hour. Ending in the strong hold of a broken mother with tears I can't imagine. Ending with questions without answers. I held the bleeding heart of the mother as my world spun. Days of holding tight the broken pieces, praying comfort, speaking peace, singing truth and I look at you without an answer. My world doesn't make sense and it feels like I'm losing myself in it. Burying you today in emptiness shook my body in exhaustion as I wept with a multitude asking me to stay strong. I've filled an ocean with tears with no shore in sight. And my heart weighs heavy as You ask me the hard questions. The night before she died You met me in my tear-filled bed covered in fear. I was losing sight because I couldn't see You any longer in the suffering. What you spoke tore through the heavy walls of my heart...
"If she dies, am I still good?"
And I wept.
Just like my tears fall now.
One of the hardest answers to uncover in the blood of a broken world.