I think a lot about Theoden. For a lot of reasons but the one thing that comes to my mind the most is, “No parent should have to bury their child.”
I think of this for a few reasons. First is that nothing puts fear in my heart more than the thought of something happening to my children. I want them to have good, fruitful lives more than anything I care for myself.
The second is I have dear friends who have lost children, and I just feel so deeply for them.
But today I face something different. And I don’t think it’s as severe as losing a child. In fact it’s the natural opposite. A parent who has children, but never buries one, is a parent buried by their child. Whem my mom died, I still had dad. And now that dad is gone, a significant, overwhelming part of my life is over. And I can’t help but think that if I get my greatest wish, my children will bury me.
The last few days, as I’ve looked over my parent’s photographs and other things, I’m pulled into a remembrance myself. Of my childhoos, my adolescence, of so many forgotten parts of the journey that go me to here. I think it’s good for a brief time, but then I think it’s critical that I move forward. They are gone but I’m still here.
