Dear Matthew: Today, at a little past noon, you died. What can I say? I hurt. Daddy hurts. Sometimes I want to die so I can be with you. I worry about who will feed you. Who will change you? My arms ache for you. This is the insightful and heartbreaking diary of a mother who began writing to her unborn son early in her pregnancy, and she continued writing to him years after his short life ended. Susan Clauson shares her personal story of elation, sorrow, questioning, and healing in her reflections on life, the loss of an infant, the joy of a second child, and surviving cancer (twice). In spite of it all, she emerges, inspired by her son, to help others who grieve the loss of a child. The death of a beautiful, innocent infant is so hard to deal with. You spend your life searching for answers to unknown questions. With death there are no answers. You can’t ask anything. You can only learn to accept it and hope that someday, when God wants you to know the answers, you will. Life goes on. Pain gives way to joy. We love you, Matty.
Dear Matthew: Today, at a little past noon, you died. What can I say? I hurt. Daddy hurts. Sometimes I want to die so I can be with you. I worry about who will feed you. Who will change you? My arms ache for you. This is the insightful and heartbreaking diary of a mother who began writing to her unborn son early in her pregnancy, and she continued writing to him years after his short life ended. Susan Clauson shares her personal story of elation, sorrow, questioning, and healing in her reflections on life, the loss of an infant, the joy of a second child, and surviving cancer (twice). In spite of it all, she emerges, inspired by her son, to help others who grieve the loss of a child. The death of a beautiful, innocent infant is so hard to deal with. You spend your life searching for answers to unknown questions. With death there are no answers. You can’t ask anything. You can only learn to accept it and hope that someday, when God wants you to know the answers, you will. Life goes on. Pain gives way to joy. We love you, Matty.