Grieving Maelee

Every now and then, Greg and Heather weigh on my mind more than normal. Tonight is one of those times. I've put my "Grieving Maelee" playlist on and am sitting here thinking. I'm thinking what it was like to hold Maelee, knowing she'd already gone to meet the Lord. I wondered if they unwrapped her and just stared at her little body. I wondered if they ran their hands over every inch of her little body, trying desperately to remember each curve. Did they run their fingers through her red hair and kiss her cheek? Did they, just for a moment, wait to see if she'd open her eyes or cry? Did they keep the blanket from the hospital just to smell her? How could you survive this pain? How do you hold your child and then have to leave without her? It hurts to think about this. It's hard to see through the tears to type, but I wonder these things. It doesn't make sense. Lord, please lay your hands on them. Four weeks ago, Maelee met you. Be with them. The pain is too deep.