It’s astonishing how quickly your life can change forever. I have recently realized how grateful I am that we can not see the future. Ours would have driven me literally crazy and destroyed what happiness I had at the time, had I seen it coming.

Early in Megan’s illness, when we didn’t yet know what we were dealing with, our concerns seemed significant: organ damage, transfusions, a delay starting school. As the weeks wore on and she became more ill, I began to long for that list of concerns. On the darkest day, I watched her deteriorate by the hour. Terrified, I called our family and told them to come to the hospital–now. Praise God, the doctors arrested her free fall just as we got the diagnosis which saved her life. It was a miracle, as were the next few weeks which saw our fighter inch back from the abyss.

As the weeks have worn on, we have often dealt with loss, sometimes daily. News that she not only wouldn’t start school with her friends, but will miss at least the semester. News that she would lose her hair. Round after round of infection. Frightening seizures. Loss of mobility. Potential relapse. Possible transplant. The news that we could be still dealing with this at this time next year. One emotional blow after another…I became shell shocked. We grieved each loss, but when your child is gravely ill, you don’t allow yourself much time for that: you cry–hard–and then you look up, wipe your tears, and ask what do we need to do. Things which a month or a day ago would have seemed intolerable, quietly become the new normal.

There really is no choice but to keep moving, putting one foot in front of another, even when you’re exhausted or terrified. Because it’s your child, and because they’re still here and need you. I’ve now met too many other grieving parents whose loss has a finality to it that ours doesn’t. We still have hope, and we’re still fighting. We may have a long and frightening journey ahead of us, but we will never give up.

“Never, never, never give up.” –Winston Churchill


About Kelly J. McCleary

Wife and mother of three, author, financial professional View all posts by Kelly J. McCleary

3 responses to “Grieving

  • Debbie

    I noticed 2 responses to your eloquent and revealing post. Perhaps they, like me are afraid to say the wrong thing. Words are hard for most of us. You do such a beautiful job sharing your, feelings, pain, joy and hope. Thank you.
    Many blessings to you!


  • Ann Ness

    Kelly, your strength is inspiring. I send you my deep love and prayers. I am in awe of you.


  • Suzanne

    Thinking about you so much, and sending so much love and prayers.

    Each time my boys were in the hospital, I reached moments of faith I never knew I had. But I never had to endure what you all have. You are so courageous, and I will be thinking of you so much.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: