Parenting
When a child enters the world, you find yourself measuring their age in fleeting moments. It’s astonishing how quickly life can transform. Just hours before, everything felt different, but now you realize that your life has undergone a profound and lasting change. You thought you understood love, but the depth of your feelings for this new life is unlike anything you’ve ever known. At first, you track your baby’s age in hours, then days. Before long, just as you counted your pregnancy in weeks, you begin to measure in weeks: 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 12 weeks old. It feels accurate, aligning with the milestones outlined in your baby books. Eventually, this system becomes cumbersome, and you transition to months. It’s hard to fathom that soon, you will be counting in years. In fact, at some point, you might even calculate your own age based on your child’s.
When faced with the loss of a child, the passage of time takes on a surreal quality. How could little Max have been here just moments before I reached the water’s edge? The search has gone on for hours. It has been a day since our lives changed irrevocably. Two weeks. Three. Is it really about to be a month? Should we start counting in months now? Yet, his belongings remain. His brand-new school shoes, never worn, are still by his door. He even still gets mail!
When remembering the days in weeks, we think of a specific Thursday at 6 PM. In months, we remember the 8th. The double blow of grief is overwhelming. Will there ever be a time when we think about the passage of time only in years? What about decades? I believe there will be. And while Max will remain forever young, we will continue to age, marked by the absence of his presence. He will always be just shy of 12 ½.
As a parent, you cherish milestones, wishing to savor each moment, even during the challenging times. Now, after the loss of a child, you find yourself in a painful paradox, longing for the years to pass more quickly. Decades without him feel unbearably long.
If you’re familiar with Evelyn, you already appreciate her incredible spirit. If not, allow me to introduce you to one of the most courageous individuals I’ve had the pleasure to know. In the face of unimaginable heartache, Evelyn exemplifies grace and resilience. Her blog, once a lighthearted glimpse into the life of a typical mom, has transformed into a heartfelt tribute to her son, her faith, and her unyielding strength.
Evelyn’s new book, Fragments of Hope: A Memoir of Love and Loss, releases today. Although it carries the weight of sadness—how could it not?—its prevailing message is one of faith, love, and hope. This book is as inspiring as the remarkable woman behind it, and it deserves a spot on your reading list. By the end, you will see her as a hero, just as I do.
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Summary
The journey of time in parenting reflects both the joy of a child’s growth and the profound sorrow of loss. While milestones are celebrated, the passage of time can be both a comforting and painful reminder of absence. Evelyn Hartman’s story highlights resilience and hope amid heartache.