Yesterday I wrote about picture day and all the silliness that followed. What I haven't written about, yet feel compelled to do so, is a subject very near and dear to my heart.
Last night we had to attend and open house for school. The kids were all abuzz about going and begged me to come along. I was surprised that they wanted me to. I had no intention to go, as I knew that the large crowds plus the heat would equal me being a bit on edge. I love the fact that they are eager to go to school and I want them to revel in that joy for as long as they can. So sometimes, I try to bow out to allow Daddy to have as much fun without me hovering over each movement. But they asked, and I know that the ages that they are in, where they aren't ashamed to be with us, is to be treasured.
So we packed everybody up and the school reminded me of a colony of a bee's buzzing to the hive to see the Queen bee. There were so many families and everyone was clustering in the halls chattering about. Some of the kids seemed so filled with joy, while others seemed to walking around bewildered and even a bit fearful. We were making way around the school to find classrooms and set up pick up plans to prepare them and me for what is in store this year.
Then it hit me, Aurora and Elijah.
I can't tell you how much they are on our minds each day. Being the parent of a child that has passed, doesn't mean that we ever get used to them being gone. I don't know how to quite explain it, but I think for those who don't know, they might assume that we just get used to them being gone, especially since they were only here for such a brief amount of time.
I can't tell you how often I struggle to answer the question of, "How many children do you have?" Do I say 2, 4, or 6?
Obviously we have 2 alive and well, but then we also had Aurora and Elijah and that makes 4. We also have had 2 miscarriages in between Eli and Aurora, which makes 6. There is always that tricky answer of who do I share my pearls with? I have found for the most it will depend on my mood and how interested the individuals really are.
We live in a society where it is not acceptable to dwell on grief. If you go into the bible and really seek out how the death of a loved one was handled, it normally entailed sack cloth and ashes, weeping, and everyone coming to surround them with whatever needs that needed. It was taken seriously. It was not belittled. It was not put off. They embraced it, as they truly acknowledged that value of life and loss. In some countries to this day, they hoist the deceased on their shoulders and wail openly and let it all out. They miss their loved one and they aren't ashamed of who knows it. It isn't judged as drama or attention seeking. It isn't annoying. It's a part of life and they weep with those who weep.
In the past few months alone I have had several friends who have had miscarriages. They know that I understand, and G-d has allowed my pain to become a safe haven for those who are experiencing the very thing we once had walked alone. They all have chosen to grieve in different ways and it has been quite the learning process for me to see that we all handle things so differently. But the one commonality is that they all need someone to listen, to feel safe with, and to know they aren't alone. So more and more I am learning to say I have 6 children. Not to mention Isaiah will rake me through the coals if I don't include our two tiniest. So we have 4 in heaven and 2 on earth.
I remember when I used to work in homes and took care of those who had lost children, in their late age they would speak openly about the little ones that they had lost long ago, but at that time they weren't allowed to talk about them. It was deemed unacceptable and I think most women really had to truck it alone and suffer in silence and alone. So I would hear them speak of their little ones and yet there was no record of children that they were speaking of. But as I listened, I understood. They were their little ones, they counted, and even after 60 and 70 years, they were missed.
I am now being told more and more about stories of elderly patients who are some where between death and life who actually speak of seeing little boys or little girls. Some know that they had siblings that had passes, while others had no clue. The crazy part, they find out later that there really was a brother or sister that had died long ago, with no mention their entire life. Yet on their parents death bed, they speak and even see the ones they had quietly missed throughout all of the years.
There is so much that I am finding out about truth. How important it is to be honest with others and share your joy and pain with others as this is not a journey meant to be traveled alone. What I am saying is that even though it's been 11 years since Aurora Passed, 10 since the miscarriages (who do have names), 9 since Elijah has passed, they are still ever present on my mind every day as much as when they first left. My thoughts go to them through out the day in wonder and in remembering.
I speak of this not to say I am in a constant state of sorrow, but that this is our reality. Some days the memories are full of joy and while others leave us with a sense of longing for what was and what was supposed to be.
So as I got out of the van yesterday it hit me. Aurora would be going into 6th grade. I can only imagine her getting her first bit of acne, her fist heavy duty crushes. Her chatting on the phone endlessly with her BFF's. Elijah, our sweet double dimpled little guy would be in 4th grade. Goodness, I can only imagine what he would have been interested in, whether it would be books, sports, or just down right playing. As I held tightly to Aria's hand and Isaiah walking snuggly next to me, I felt my eyes well up with tears in feeling their absence. I see other 11,10, and 9 year olds and I can't help but pause and ponder how different our lives would be.
I have had so many compliment our parenting style. A few have chalked it up to the fact that we only have two children and had we had all of them we wouldn't be the parents that we are. I somewhat agree but for very different reasons. For us had we had all of our children, not only would it have been a zoo, and yes I think our styles of parenting would have been different but only because we have walked a road we didn't intend to. For me, I think I am different (not better) because every day we live with the reminders of how fortunate we really are. We know what it is like to have a child take up every hour of the day with constant parenting only to be left with an empty room. I remember at times it felt eerie going into Elijah's room after he died. No longer was there the noise of dialysis machine humming, the blood pressure cuff and pulse ox beeping, no coo's, nothing.... It was all so silent. Our world became silent.
Ever since they have passed I have begged G-d for dreams about them. I have only had one dream involving Aurora and it was quite abstract. Elijah, I had one a few years ago, but it brought me little comfort.
Last night, my prayer was answered and my little man came for a visit (tears pouring from my face).
I don't remember every detail, but the room was bright and Elijah was at the age he had passed away at. Almost as if no time had passed. He was smiling at me with his double dimples and big ole soulful blue eyes. I had no indication if the room was at home or the hospital, but I didn't care. I felt such peace. I was chattering with him and encouraging him to speak. I kept on telling him how much I wanted to hear his voice. He just smiled with a coy look about him. I hugged him (seriously I am still crying) and picked him up. I felt his weight on my body and my heart was soaring. It was if I had known he had already died and I was getting those 5 extra minutes I had begged for. I was doting on every movement and all the while he is smiling. He said a short sentence and for the life of me I can't remember it, but I squealed and jumped up and down with delight. He grinned. It was if time had stood still. Life was happening all around me, but I was totally devoted to each movement he made.
He then reached for his peritoneal dialysis line. He had it most of his short life. It was coiled in a spiral underneath a layer of his belly skin. Most of the time he was tethered to it, until the dialysis was complete. Some days he would be on it all day, while others for a few hours. In his life he never messed with it. We had taped it up so that he it would be out of his reach. But in the dream he looked at me and began to pull it out. I felt a bit of panic pass through and I told him not to do that, but he just looked at me with peace in his eyes and pulled it out. A bunch of water gushed out and I ran to look for Dr. Bunchman (His Nephrologist at the time he was alive) for help. He wasn't with his partner, in fact I stopped and asked where Dr. Barletta was. He just waved the question away (which he used to do) and he walked back with me.
Aria was in my room while I was asleep. Normally once I awake, I can't get the same dream back, but for some reason I was caught between being aware of Aria and yet still dreaming of Elijah. I didn't want to wake up, I just wanted to stay with him and make sure that he was alright. I didn't feel bad, just I was just being a Mom who wanted to fix my little guy, even if only for a moment. My eyes locked with his and I saw his small little body, so full of life, right there, so close. I finally woke up and my heart was filled with a peace I can't explain. I have been crying tears of joy all day. After 8 long years, I got to hold Mr. Buddy Buddy Pants for the minutes I have begged for. I know it sounds crazy, but it was so real.
He didn't look sick, he looked happy. He wasn't puffy (edema), he was healthy pudgy. One can only speculate what the dream meant. What I took away from it was an answer to prayers. I got to be with him. It was almost as if he was showing me the way things used to be and where he is now. He doesn't need dialysis anymore. He isn't in pain. He is alive in heaven and one day I will be where he is and never have to feel the sorrow his or any of my other children's absence. It was a gift from G-d.
Am I a good Mom because of how many children I have? No. When I am good (because let's face it, sometimes I don't make the grade) I owe to G-d and for the fact of the road that He has had us walk. Some Mom's are born to be Mom's and are naturally good at it. Me, not so much. I believe G-d used their lives to shape me. To increase my faith. To make me aware of how delicate life truly is. Before them, I really had no concept of the finality of death. I had no concept of the importance of devoted parenting. I had no concept of G-d and who He really is. While the pain of daily life and all it brings doesn't diminish the hurt, it has opened my heart and my mind to keep on searching for G-d and all that his grace and truth has to offer.
I have my down days. My loved ones around me have seen me and let's face it, will continue. But on the days where I am able to keep my heart open for what G-d has in store for me, is worth more than any amount of money or hardship. No, I am not who I am because of my strength. I am who I am (and still searching) because it is my Lord that guides me, strengthens me, gives me hope when I have none, and knows me better than I know myself. He does answer prayers. Although our timing is not his timing, if you take the time to be still and wait and truly believe, He will come.
I want to encourage everyone out there, to stop and reach out to those around you. Yes, I know you are busy. I know that you are stressed out beyond belief. But as a good friend told me, when you help others around you, you have no idea how that may change the course of their life. It isn't about us, it's about others. I encourage you to go to that funeral home or funeral for someone that you knew, no matter how hard it is, no matter how busy you are. You never know the day when it could be you on the other side, needing someone to take time out of their day to enter into your pain. This can be used in any situation, a divorce, a sickness in the family, a mental illness, financial loss, drug addiction, rebellion, seriously it can apply to any and all things that seem like every day. All it takes is for one act of mercy to open one's heart to hope. You have all seen how much others have helped us. I don't think it to be coincidence. I think it to be G-d showing others just what we need when we need it.
Watch, pray, believe, dream, and be amazed.... Mama loves you Punky Pants}{
PS After much thought, in my opinion the dream showed as he was and now how I believe he is. That he no longer needs his PD line and instead of blood, possibly the water represented "living waters" that he now receives from G-d, where he thirst, hunger, and pain are no more.
No comments:
Post a Comment