This is Bradan.
Bradan’s parents were in the same birth class as us when they were pregnant with him and we with Benjamin.
Three days ago Bradan died of a rare form of cancer.
Every time I look at my son since I found out about Bradan’s diagnosis, and especially since he passed away, I can’t help but feel lost in gratefulness, wanting to memorize his every facial feature, his every word, knowing Bradan’s parents can never do this again. I want to hold on to my babies and never let go, to tell them over and over how loved they are, how thankful I am that God gave them to us, that they are healthy and strong, that they are safe.
As a mother, how do you come back from the loss of a child? I know parents learn to move forward, to breathe and eat and sleep and smile again, but it’s hard for me to imagine. How do you function? How do you speak to anyone without sobbing?
And this, with hope. This, despite: O death, where is your sting? Despite: Death has been swallowed up in victory! Death hurts, even when we have the hope of eternity. The space of time between now and when Bradan and his parents are reunited is infinitely smaller than the vast expanse of forever that they will spend with him after that glorious day, but even in spite of that truth, the pain and the days feel so long, and to look forward at the slow path of waiting must be suffocating.
What must the pain look like without the hope of eternity? Immeasurable. If the slow path of waiting is suffocating, what would the end feel like? What is life without hope?
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.'” (Revelation 21:1-4 NIV)
Enjoy Jesus for us, sweet little Bradan, as we trudge along the slow path. We will see you soon!
My name is Christy, and I'm a wife and new mom exploring what it means to live my life in the victory and freedom of Jesus.
Freedom Songs 
Very well written Christy! I have been going through and thinking the same thoughts as you, each and every time I look at Caleb.
As am I Christy & Meghan; I joyfully look at my sons praising God for their lives and their health. Everything I do is now consumed with thoughts of Bradan, Roy & Monica; thank you so much for writing this beautiful piece.