A walk in the park

Yesterday Mike and I went to visit a new park that's across town. We wouldn't normally go to a park that's so far from our house, but this park has an area which is designated as a Children's Memorial Walkway.

We first learned of this walkway a couple months ago while flipping through the newest county guide to our parks and the activities/interests which are offered. Bricks that make up this walkway are engraved with information about children who have died, regardless of circumstances or age. We've been considering purchasing a brick for Ryan - as well as one for his angel buddy, Thomas - but we didn't want to buy one, sight unseen.

As usual, our trip started out innocently enough. But after reading several of the inscriptions along the walkway, I felt that unmistakable lump forming in my throat just as my eyes started to sting from the tears I was unsuccessfully trying to choke back.

I couldn't believe I was standing in the middle of this sea of anonymous, shared grief. I couldn't believe that there are so many - too many, actually - parents who understand and know the indescribable pain that comes from your child's unexpected, premature death. I couldn't believe that we were even having to consider buying a brick to commemorate our beloved son's too-short life.

A walk in the park on a beautiful spring day shouldn't be like that.

I really thought we'd spent a day like that pushing a stroller along the walking trails, stopping along the way to pick flowers and watch the wildlife at play.

I never imagined that instead I'd spend that outing sitting on a bench, crying my heart out and mourning a life which is no more.