Susan is gone.
And my tears for her are, in part, selfish.
Not just because she was an amazing human, as you may have read as people honor her across the blogosphere, and that I won't get to see her bright face again.
But because in losing beloved Susan, losing myself becomes that much more real.
It's an inevitable connection.
I was often comforted by the belief that my sister would be waiting for my mom. Somewhere.
Heaven. The After Life. The place where we go that no one knows until we actually get there but then we can't tell anyone about it.
That was until I had kids of my own and realized that there was no way I could ever be kept away from my children.
And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. That the circle of life continues on, as we give birth to the family that came before us. And so on and so forth.
Around and around.
I see my sister's eyes in my own daughter. I see my friend's mom in her children.
And I don't think it's just a coincidence.
I won't know if I'm right until I leave and come back again.
But it gives me great comfort that Susan will always be with her family. Maybe waiting patiently in the stars that she loved so much until it's her time to return, when her children will be holding her like she held them.
Because these babies of ours, they are our blood, our tears, and our souls.
Together we are mighty crews of earthly warriors and explorers.
Never separated.
Eternally connected.
Waiting patiently for rebirth and reunion.
Soon, dear Susan. Soon.
In lieu of flowers, the family of Susan Niebur is asking for IBC Research Foundation. Please donate.
I've been sick with bronchitis and two of my kids are sick so I haven't been digging into the blogosphere the way I usually do. The link to this post on Facebook is how I just found out about Susan's passing. I am so sad for her family and children. But so grateful I got to meet her and see how big and beautiful her smile was. Everyone I ever mentioned her to said how much they loved her. We were all lucky to know her.
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Posted by: Jason Kidd | May 07, 2012 at 03:45 AM
Beautiful post. I agree with every word.
Posted by: Michelle O'Neil | February 16, 2012 at 12:43 PM
oh the tears you bring... my second son is my mother's father. So much so that my grandmother cried when she saw him. The grandfather that said good bye to me in a dream days before he died and who watched over me for years after that now makes me laugh with everything 2 1/2 year old antic. May Susan return to you soon.
Posted by: Amberly | February 13, 2012 at 03:22 AM
This was such a beautiful post.
Posted by: Mommy Cracked | February 12, 2012 at 08:49 PM
I finally stop crying and then...this. Beautiful, true, and sad.
Posted by: Mom101 | February 10, 2012 at 08:45 PM
K- I am sorry for your loss. So very sorry.
Posted by: Jenny | February 08, 2012 at 07:04 PM
Beautiful written
Posted by: Nicole | February 08, 2012 at 04:15 PM
I have never met Susan (or you) in real life, but appreciate how you each and all touch us. Her story has had a similar affect on me and many of my tears were for the idea of losing a child or them losing me. I cry now for the child I'm carrying that he will never meet my father who died since my last child was born. The circle is there and the connection I have to believe is there. It is hard to name, but I know beyond doubt that my father is near looking out for us. His genetics are imprinted all over my nephew's face if we need to "see" him, but it feels like his presence is in us too. I'm not sure, in short, but I like your perspective and the impact more broadly that Susan's story in our community.
Posted by: abbey | February 08, 2012 at 03:26 PM
I never knew Susan in real life, only through her blog and others. It is somewhat strange to mourn the loss of someone I never truly knew, yet I can't help but be saddened by her passing. The internet is a strange place with all the trolls and scandals. I think that truly beautiful people like Susan leave a bigger mark just because they shine so brightly in a place that isn't always bright. I'm sure that Susan will live on her children, in their memories and their families as well as in the memories of all those she touched. I'm sorry for your loss.
Posted by: Kendra | February 08, 2012 at 03:05 PM
I remember when shortly after my grandma passed, my little cousin was born - and immediately we saw my grandma's eyes. As she grew, we saw her personality. I love to believe my cousin holds the same soul.
While doing a family history book, I came across a photograph of my great-great-great grandfather - and it was identical to my son. (And stories about his exploits seem to indicate the personalities match!)
There are so many ways Susan lives on, and I am so grateful to have known her. She left the world a better place. And I sure do hope her sons find her again when they become daddies.
Posted by: Karianna | February 08, 2012 at 02:20 PM
I've been sick with bronchitis and two of my kids are sick so I haven't been digging into the blogosphere the way I usually do. The link to this post on Facebook is how I just found out about Susan's passing. I am so sad for her family and children. But so grateful I got to meet her and see how big and beautiful her smile was. Everyone I ever mentioned her to said how much they loved her. We were all lucky to know her.
Posted by: Elizabeth@Table4Five | February 08, 2012 at 01:10 PM