True labor of love
Memories of lost children kept
Iknew of Mamie’s Poppy Plates before Mallory died but, I confess, I thought they only supported still birth, miscarriage or infant death. I was wrong. They graciously support any family that experiences the death of a child.
The day of Mallory’s visitation was a blur— we hugged and cried and hugged and cried until the funeral home literally asked us if we could wind it down as it was time to leave for the evening. I remember snippets of the night, small pieces of conversations, or a moment I shared with someone, but mostly it is a blur of tears and sadness and final moments looking upon the angel face of our darling child. She would be forever four. The angel we were supposed to have the privilege to parent for her whole life was gone. We just had no idea that her life would be so short.
One thing I remember quite clearly are the few moments I shared with Sarah and Britney as they came to show us love and support. I recall very clearly when they stepped into the doorway. I saw Britney’s familiar face first and then Sarah’s, and their hugs may have been tighter than even those of my own family. Those girls knew the hurt, the confusion and the fear we were feeling. They also knew that night was only the beginning of a lifelong journey for us.
A few months passed and I learned that Mamie’s has an annual 5k race called Race to Remember. Not only is it a fundraiser for the nonprofit, it is a time for families of child loss to gather with others and remember their beloved children. Many of these families and friends proudly run or walk 3.1 miles towards a finish line as they honor their lost little loves. Some prefer to stand on the sidelines and cheer us on as we race. That is welcomed and appreciated, as well. Really, isn’t that pretty much what this life is?
Since I had just begun running in April, I recognized that the race in June would be a great goal for me. When race day came— June 15, 2014— I was ready for the run. What I was not ready for was the overwhelming emotions I would experience on race day just from walking into a crowd of people I knew had all been touched by child loss. It was both beautiful and tragic. I felt understood in a way that I had not since Mallory died, but I also felt sad that so many families were hurting just like us.
There is a balloon release each year before the race to commemorate the little souls that went before us. As we released balloons into the air, I recall thinking how very not alone we are in this grief. It was both comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. I believe there wasn’t a dry eye anywhere in the place. Witnessing that many people remembering their children is powerful. It is a testament to the love that endures past death.
There is no way to explain to you the bond you feel when another bereaved parent shares her heart with you. Sarah is not just someone I admire; I am fortunate to now be able to call her my friend.
The month immediately following the race, I attended my first volunteer night at Mamie’s. Once a month, volunteers gather to prepare plates to mail out to families— checking birth stats and names, adding tiny feet and hand prints, carefully boxing the plates and addressing them for mailing. It had only been 10 months since Mallory died. I was astounded by the number of plates we were processing. I had many mixed emotions as I reflected on the fact that each one of the plates in the room represented a life lost too soon. It also represented a mother and father broken from the loss of their child. At the time, I already understood the need for the services that Mamie’s provided and, at that moment, I also understood that the need will never end.
Over the last year, I have volunteered a number of times with Mamie’s. Each time I feel that I am fortunate to be able to offer some sort of help to this organization. Their mission was born of a personal tragedy and Sarah, with the help of her sister, their mother and many, many other passionate folks involved with this group, has turned that into a mission of love. Love for the grieving hearts of mothers and fathers everywhere.
It reminds me of a quote from the great philosopher and poet Rumi: “The wound is the place where light enters you.”
Sarah has allowed the light from her own wound to shine onto others by graciously sharing Mamie’s story with the world. She and members of her team have gone to hospitals and funeral homes to take prints of the little hands and feet of children that are gone too soon. Can you imagine the strength it must take to do that? Now imagine the strength it must take to do it after losing your own child. I cannot say that I would be strong enough.
Sarah pours her heart and soul into this mission. It is remarkable that from her deepest wound came incredible amounts of light to spread and share with people, not only in Arkansas, but all over the country. I honestly feel that I have been blessed to watch her and her sister and their mother as they work. It is truly a labor of love, a work from the heart.
This year’s Race to Remember is Saturday in Little Rock ( more information at mamiespoppyplates.com). Join us.