
Our minister said, “Jade was born, lived a little while, and then died.”
The doctor said she was ‘perfect’ at her two month checkup. She got her shots, we brought her home. I went to a class in Tulsa that night, having gone stir-crazy trying to take care of Jade plus our 2-year-old son, Brian. My husband was baby sitting.
I came home to the house ablaze with lights. My in-laws’ car was in the driveway. Jade was gone. My husband was crying. My in-laws had gone through the house, gathering everything and putting it out of sight, trying to spare me. Our son came into the living room with Jade’s blanket. He went to the trash can, put the blanket in, and said, “Broken.”
She was ‘perfect,’ but she was gone. She died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS). They could explain little about it. They STILL can’t explain it all these years later.
I learned several things –
- Your life is never the same
- Nothing hurts as badly as losing your child
- The importance of all else pales in comparison
- There is something way down inside each of us that allows/compels us to survive – even with a hole the size of a cannon ball right through the middle of you. With us, after we each seriously considered suicide, it was each other and our son.
- I still have to admit that I resent the idea people told me that ‘it was God’s will.’ I’m sorry, but I can’t handle it, even all these years later, that someone that powerful would do something like that. It might be comforting to some, but not to me.
- I look at the world differently. When I’m ready to toss my husband into a hole in the back yard because he has used up my last thread of patience, I realize how lucky we are to have had each other for what will be 55 years in June.
- I value my friends, my loved ones, even more. I realize how short life can be and how important it is to let each of them know how important they are to you.
- I still can’t hold a baby without crying – afraid for him or her. I still worry when I see a mother with a new baby, holding my breath and so glad there are monitors now.
- I still can’t go to a funeral. I fell apart at Jade’s funeral all those years ago and still do the same thing now, bringing all the attention to me, instead of the person we’re remembering at the service, so I don’t go.
- We treasure our son, being thankful to know and love him.
- I can meet someone and instantly can FEEL if they have suffered loss or not.
Today is a sad day for us, but also one that is important because I am so thankful for all I have. I hope to meet her again some day.

