This is the feast of the Holy Innocents. It honors the babies killed by Herod who was trying to kill Jesus. It is the day that I lost the last baby I had. It is a day that I attend Mass in memorial for her and for me. The thing about loss is, it gets more bearable over the years, but it doesn't go away. It is there. Perhaps the loss might be described like a scar, but I have come to view it as a part of who I am, like green eyes.
And I might have thought of it as bad, bad, bad once upon a time, but I am learning to appreciate the changes within me caused by the loss, the absence of that child in my life, in the life of the world. The loss is part of my story. It wasn't a mistake, it was an event.
And today on the feast of the Holy Innocents I honor and celebrate that last baby I lost. I sometimes feel that we give each other a hug on this day.
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