Saying goodbye

How do you say goodbye to a child you gave up through abortion? Cara and Marcus, grief-stricken over the choice they made, decided to hold a private memorial service for a child they believed to have been a girl. Just days before their wedding, they navigated their boat to a spot just off the coast of Point Loma.

The rest comes in Cara’s own words:

“We turned off the engine and rocked to and fro, with only the lapping waves making any sound. Eventually, conversation returned, and we unwrapped the protected, pink long-stemmed rose we’d selected for our little girl. Fragile, delicate, perfectly beautiful, the rose was as close as we could get to touching the baby we’d lost.

“I held the stem, afraid of the velvety petals, sure that their pure softness would break my monstrous soul. We said something, which we couldn’t even remember later that day. Those moments were held by inexplicable emotions, not by words.

“My fiance reached for my hand, and unknowingly inspired me to caress the light pink petals. As the sobs overcame me and my soul cried out to be rescued from the hell of grieving an aborted baby, fresh winds sprayed salty sea mist over us, and I was answered by a God whose love dove straight through the sobs, into the depths of my pain, and into the shame of my past.

“The rocking of the boat became like the rocking of my Father’s arms, the mist like his caress, mixing with my tears and washing me clean from the horror of the preceding months.

“When the rocking slowed, we set the small rose upon the water and watched as it swayed farther and farther away from us until we saw nothing but the calm sea, the deep tan of the cliffs and the sailor’s blue sky.

“Though more storms would surely come, and the damage was far from over, that particular storm had passed as God ushered in a new day for us both.”