I just came back from a visitation for a twenty-one month old beautiful girl named Catelyn.
She died at the hospital on September 11th, so unfortunately her parents will be reminded of this date every year by the media, but for a different reason. I don’t know why she died. It was a brief illness that they were trying to treat but were obviously unsuccessful. It doesn’t really matter, of course. A death of a child always seems so senseless, so beyond comprehension. I can still see her in her Dad’s arms just two weeks ago in church. She was such a good girl in church. You could tell he parents loved her so; they didn’t want to put her in the childcare that was available during the service, they wanted her with them. And being their first, it’s easy to understand. You would hear her sweet voice echoing around the cavernous building on occasion, but not very often. A pleasant distraction that always made me smile. I didn’t know Catelyn personally, but I know her parents, and they are very good people. Not that that matters either. A death of any child is tragic.
My two kids are too grown to remember details of their early life, but my heart remembers and aches for her parents and family.
Bless you sweet Catelyn and the love you brought into this world.