Reading sad things

I am a reader of blogs.  Kind of a lot of them.  Sometimes they are very funny; sometimes they are informative.  And sometimes they are sad.  Recently I have been following the story of Kate and her son Gavin in her blog Chasing Rainbows.  I cannot possibly do her justice, so I will let you read about her yourself.  Please do, because her grace is well, amazing.  Last week something incredibly sad happened.  Gavin died.  He was 5 years old.

I have been asked why I read sad stories like Kate's.  I have been asked if they affect me.  They do affect me.  I am deeply saddened, yet unable to stop reading the stories that are written.  I have asked myself why, because other people ask me why.  This is my answer.  If someone (like Kate) has been brave enough to write her story down and allow me (and others) to read it, then I feel I owe it to her and to her beautiful son to read it.  I will cry for her, her husband, her other son, for Gavin.

It helps me feel connected to women who are just amazing.  I am learning how to have grace and courage from these other women who are not afraid to share their stories with the world.  So  I read them.  I try to learn from them.  

Today was Gavin's funeral.  I wrote his name on my hand, along with a a little rainbow.  I held space for Gavin'd family today.  I prayed and held them up, mentally, every time I saw his name.  And maybe that is why I really read blogs.  So that I can be reminded to not give up hope.  And I can, in my own quiet way, hold space for another.