If you are all sensitive to reading about the death of children, I’d encourage you to not only not read the above article, but to probably skip the post.
In passing on Friday, Eric mentioned to me that a toddler had died in a local daycare. We both spent time speculating just how something like that happened. We figured some daring lad had climbed onto and jumped off of something he shouldn’t had in a lapsed moment of watchful eyes. We didn’t guess what really had happened to 16-month old Benjamin Kingan on the last morning of his life.
His 22-year old day care worker, in a fit of frustration, threw him to the ground. Benjamin collected his blanket, crawled to his “comfort zone”, a bouncy seat, passed out and died.
Typing that makes my heart break. Reading it makes my heart break and I’ve been catching Cadence today in rib crushing hugs, thankful for her and so, so sad for the Kingan family. So sad that someone disregard the importance of his little life and what he must mean to his mama and dad. So sad that this was the only answer, that this was what they came up with.
And so, so SO sad that his Mama and Dad were deprived of being able to, at the very least, comfort their baby from one life and into the next one. I hope that he wasn’t hurt or frightened, just confused or sad.
What I believe is that if you have to leave, if you must really go, you should be loved like crazy on your way out. That you should have your hand held, or be hugged or to have your ear whispered into with words so full of love that you’re comforted.
I can’t help but think of my own sweet, sweet baby. How we comfort her. How she wraps her little monkey arms tight around us and buries her head under our chins and I hate to think of her ever anywhere alone or scared without us. Regardless of the situation.
After I laid Bug down for her nap this afternoon, I prayed for Benjamin Kingan and his family. He won’t be far from my thoughts. If you pray, pray for him as well as his family, who probably needs comfort in this awful time.