Days of Elijah

5 years ago today, Elijah died. We decided to keep Isaiah home from school and have a "Eli Day." It couldn't have been better, as we had so much sunshine, perfectly fitting for the day. We ate McDonald's for breakfast, something that we used to do before each amnio infusion and when we were trying to get down to the hospital to see him. We then proceeded to the Fredrick Meijer Gardens, where we saw the butterflies and walked all around in such great company. There were daffodils everywhere. They look like sun's, so that just added to our enjoyment. After getting ourselves tuckered out there, we proceeded on to the mausoleum. We sang John Denver's Annie's Song and Amazing Grace, of course. Of course the memories flooded back as we chatted about wondering what he'd be like today. We often have to remind ourselves that he'd be on anti-rejection meds and have to be extremely careful to protect his donor's kidney. He'd probably be a little shorter because of the kidney issues, but to see his smile, ohh.... You see out of all our kids, he is only one to have his Daddy's dimples. Seth has the most beautiful double dimples, and Eli took after him. We rarely caught a picture of them as our camera was a very slow. I have been trying extra hard today to think of all the good memories about Eli, so that I could cry in remembrance and joy, instead of pain and guilt. It's hard to explain the guilt you feel to be living, when 2 of your children's bodies are in a coffin. It's kind of like when you drop your kids off at the babysitter or they go away for a while and you can't help but wonder if they are safe, happy, if they are hungry or cold, do they miss you, etc... I feel the same way about Eli and Aurora as I do dropping Isaiah and Aria off and going away for a couple of hours. Only I can't pick them up and get a report of all that they are doing and all the silly things they said. Every day, I wonder and miss. I see my nephews who are there ages, and not one time goes by that we are together that I don't think about how Aurora and Elijah should be playing with them. While I rejoice that they are in Heaven and are safe, I mourn for the time I wish we still had. Any parent should know, if their child was plucked from them, whether from illness or accident, you'd be devastated. We are human and are meant to grieve loss, not pretend it didn't happen or minimize anyone else's pain, even if it isn't the way you'd handle it. The one thing I have learned is never judge someone and think they are doing something wrong, until you have been there yourself. I have learned this lesson the hard way, twice. Through Eli's short life, he taught us so much. Every day is a gift, even though it may be a struggle. With every devastating unknown turn for the worse, G-d showed Himself by granting us many miracles. Every child is a miracle, but with Eli we literally saw miracles happen before our very eyes. The many calls we received early in the morning or in the middle of the night to come down because he was dying, were replaced with joy as he pulled through. His doctor's even said towards the end, that it was just Elijah to be so seriously ill and then pull through. His last moments we thought he was pulling an Elijah, only this time he went home for eternal healing. Our boy made us feel things that we had never felt before. His soul was not of this earth. You have heard the verse,... be careful, lest you be entertaining angels unaware... I believe he was sent from Heaven for a mission that I can barely comprehend. I miss him. I miss his smile and his babbling. He pretty much is my only child that said Mummma Mummma. He loved to be held and listen to his John Denver. He'd gaze into your eyes like that of a star, so full of light. Because of the time we went through with him, Seth and I are bonded together in such a unique way, and I am grateful. He taught me to have compassion, to see the pain he went through. He did it with such dignity and grace, and he hung on for us. Even the morning that he died, he waited for me to get up with his fever so ungodly high. I remember when I'd cry in the NICU so full of worry, he'd cling to my hand and comfort me. We fought for him, and he fought for us. In every moment of his life his name was so fitting. The Lord is my G-d, Praise. I ache to hold him, to console him, to be near. In my mind he was perfect. I hate it when people will say, boy he'd be giving you grief. I want to say, "I know your trying to normalize him, but he's gone, let him be perfect. Let our memories of him be perfect. He'd be 5 1/2, full of life, and I want him back, I will always want him back. So shed a tear, it's okay to feel, just feel... My Mr. Buddy Buddy Pants, Mr. Linty toes. Mr. Punky Pants, Mr. Magoo, Squeaker Peeker, what a difference you made in my life. 5 years is to long to live without you. Although the pain of losing you and your has been the most intense pain I have ever felt, because of you we have felt some of the most intense joy we have ever felt. We are better people and parents because of you. In my mind you are forever 6 1/2 months old. I hope G-d lets us see you small first, so I can hold you once again, not swollen from dialysis or infection. Instead be just the essence of you, sweet boy. We'll love you forever and hold on to hope that we will see you again. Well little man, because of our life, we end with, watch, pray, believe, and be amazed.

Seth has just posted a video montage that was made for us 5 years ago by his cousin Anne, you can see it on you tube under the search name elijah praise nickerson. I tried to put the link, but I didn't know how. I hope you'll share in the remembrance of his short but amazing life. You amazed us all.