Remembering Curran

Today is October 25th, which is incidentally the birthday of my beloved little nephew, Curran Todd Pace, who passed away 14 months ago from lukemia at the young age of 10 months.

I cannot know, nor hope that I ever have to, what it must mean to lose a child. I have spent so many nights lying in bed thinking of my sister and brother-in-law and the painful hole that Curran's death branded permanently in their lives. I cannot even fathom it. After writing, or more aptly, "relating" a poem from Curran to his mother, I felt for a short time and amidst a torrent of tears, a sadness and loneliness I've never felt before. I cannot say it was the same grief that my sister has felt, but I think perhaps I was shown just a fragment of her sadness.

Neal A. Maxwell once said, "Empathy during agony is a portion of divinity." I have seen this intimately applied by my sister and her husband. They suffer daily from the loss of their first son, and yet they find ways to serve and sutain others unselfishly.

What an example of Christlike love. It inspired me today, after having talked to my sister on the phone and listening to her laugh and play with her two daughters and new baby son. Love is a great healer, even though her loss will always remain with her.

That is the blessing of this day, I suppose. Remembering to love those we have while we can, and serving them amidst frustrations, disappointments and hectic schedules. I resolve to do better.