I often say that writing through your pain is good for the soul. I would like to introduce Matt to you. His writings touch my soul again and again. He has made me cry and made me laugh. And I admire him. Please enjoy this post.
A gorgeous 17-year-old. Stricken with cancer. Died in her bedroom in her father’s arms.
I’ll never forget it because it was my first funeral.
Second grade. Sarah was 8. I would turn 8 a couple weeks later.
Sarah watched her parents lose their first born. And she watched her four younger siblings struggle to make sense of it all.
Thrust involuntarily into the eldest-sibling role, she was forged in pain. In loss. From some of her earliest memories.
Now, Sarah’s a mom. She gave birth to two children. And after learning she would never bear children again, she and her husband adopted a child in 2010. Not two weeks old.
He was a beloved member of their family before he even got there. A brother to an adoring big sister and big brother. And the pride…
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