Remembering Liana

Three years ago this morning, my son and I were standing on either side of Andrea's hospital bed, as she gave birth to the lifeless little body of our first grandchild. Two days earlier, on September 11th (Dreadful Day), my heart had broken at Daniel's phone call, "They can't find a heartbeat." It was a grief like I had never known.

Holding Liana was excruciating, but peaceful. The perfect paradox. Fullterm, brought into the world, simply lacking the breath of life. The hardest thing I've ever had to do was to say goodbye before ever saying hello.

I remember her often, not only when September rolls around. I wonder about her, and feel sad that we didn't have the joy of seeing her grow and play and learn. But I have confidence, praise God, that we will know her in heaven, a beautiful child of God.

Her middle name is Hope.