Sawyer’s Story (part 3): Tuesdays

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Sawyer’s Story (part 3): Tuesdays

December 20, 2010 at 12:02 am | Posted in Grief, mourning, twins | 6 Comments
Tags: child loss, grief, life after loss, Sawyer

As I previously wrote, everyone in our house was exhausted in December of 2009. The twins were getting better but were still house bound. After a few days we were going stir crazy. Tuesday of that week it was time for the twins to take a nap and for me to feed Sawyer. The twins did not want to take a nap. After reading a lot of books and singing every song I know, I thought I had put the twins to sleep. I finally went to feed Sawyer. I heard something, ignored it and continued to feed Sawyer. A few minutes later the noise became so loud I had to go investigate.

I held Sawyer, who was very calm despite being interrupted during his feeding, as I walked into the twins’ room. There was pink fluffy stuff all over the room. It took a few seconds for my brain to register what happened. The twins opened the doors to two small unfinished storage spaces in their room. Those doors were hard for me and Evan to open. However, not only did the twins open the doors but they went inside and ripped out the pink fiberglass insulation.

Sawyer began to cry because he realized he was still hungry. I was not sure what to do. So, I closed their door. I was pretty sleep deprived. I figured if I shut the door maybe the image of our 2 1/2-year-old twins playing with pink fluffy insulation could really just turn out to be a dream.

Luckily, one of my brother-in-laws was living with us at the time. The twins affectionately named him Uncle Wacky. Uncle Wacky was less sleep deprived and thinking much more rationally. He cleaned up the insulation, watched the twins and saved the day. I went to feed Sawyer and hoped the twins did not dismantle any other parts of the house.

Note: Uncle Wacky took the picture of Sawyer in his sunglasses that is in this post.

When Evan got home from work that night we were all there and still in one piece. I told Evan about our tough Tuesday. However, we realized that our sleep deprived selves could not take too many more days like this one. Evan and I began to discuss some options for more help which could possibly allow us to get more sleep. We also remembered another Tuesday five weeks earlier when we first met Sawyer. Our “Tuesday’s child . . . full of grace.” (a line from a nursery rhyme by A. E. Bray’s Traditions of Devonshire)

It is not “if” we will lose the things we love, it is “when.”

But as we lose, can we not gain a deep knowing that in the presence of grace,

love is eternal?

– – Author Unknown

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love is eternal, we will never lose Sawyer, or Jake or any of those we hold so close in our hearts..

Comment by Nanny (Lanie's mom)— December 20, 2010 #

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Lanie,

Your mom is so right. I think of Sawyer often. I may not have him in my arms, but I think of him so often. He was a calm baby but so very aware of his surroundings. Wonderful memories that will always be with me.

Comment by Patty— December 20, 2010 #

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The “when” in that quote is what brings me to my knees.
Blessings,
Linda

Comment by The Good Cook— December 20, 2010 #

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I know it’s easy to say being miles away from having to actually deal with it, but I do love the wild spirit in your twins.

Comment by Daphne— December 20, 2010 #

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I love this picture of Sawyer.
When Uncle Wacky is the one thinking rationally, well then you definitely know you’re sleep deprived! And I love those mischevious twins of yours! (Batton down the hatches!)

Comment by eden— December 20, 2010 #

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Dear Lanie, Evan, Fletcher and Alyssa – Your heart-wrenching and heart-warming story is so beautifully told by you, Lanie, that we’re all swept up up into it and share in it. I wish you a very fine, enjoyable and rewarding 2011. May you all be healthy and enjoy each other. And may you adults find the peace that will make you stronger and move you forward. You, Lanie, have done a great job of thinking through your truly hard experiences and, I hope, it has eased your pain.
I send much love and warm wishes to all of you.
Cornelia

Comment by Cornelia Levine— December 20, 2010 #

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A Mourning Mom