Help
May 2, 2012 at 10:18 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life after loss, life lessons, normal?, twins | 23 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, hope, Jake, new not so normal, quotes, Sawyer, siblings
Aibileen, from The Help, whispers this quote in Mae Mobley’s ear every day so she will understand that she is special. Are there words which I can whisper into my toddlers’ ears that will help them understand about their brothers?
The other day I was driving the twins and listening to their conversation. They were discussing one of their friend’s new baby sister. The conversation went something like this:
“We have babies too.”
“Our babies are not growing.”
“They are flowers.”
“Flowers grow. So, our babies are growing.”
“Mama, what kind of flowers are Jake and Sawyer?”
A long silence from me. I finally come up with, “want to go to the new playground?”
What I Need
April 14, 2012 at 11:12 pm | Posted in Death, life after loss, mourning, normal? | 19 CommentsTags: autism, child loss, Jake, March of Dimes, new not so normal, perspective, premature birth, Sawyer
I am not always able to adequately articulate my feelings. Jake and Sawyer’s deaths have often left me feeling alone and misunderstood. Sometimes I read something and it is exactly how I think and feel. Reading Four Plus An Angel by Jessica, often leaves me with that reaction. Jessica, writes beautifully about her life without her daughter Hadley.
What I Need by Jessica
I need to say her name without bringing everyone to tears.
I need her life to be included in the count of children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews.
I need kindness on birthdays and understanding on holidays.
I need to stay in bed and a reason to get out of it.
I need to talk endlessly and to let the phone ring.
I need an extra hug and respect for my space.
I need someone to ask how I’m doing and want to know the real answer.
I need careful announcements of pregnancies, baby showers and births, mine did not turn out as I hoped.
I need a “handle with care” sticker for my heart, my emotions have been fragile since the day I said goodbye.
I need patience and reminders for my mind, part of it will always be somewhere else.
I need forgiveness for not being the friend, sister, daughter and wife I used to be.
But more than anything I need you…
your support, your friendship, your understanding…
a lifetime is an impossibly long time to wait to hold my child again.
Two other impressive things going on at Four Plus An Angel:
- Jessica is also an advocate for autism. She has a very cool project going on during April, Autism Awareness month. Jessica is asking for a picture of you or someone you know or love who has autism, holding up a message they would like the world to know about autism. For more details on the project and where to send pictures click here.
- Jessica, like our family, supports the March of Dimes. She is very close to her goal and I am hoping that she makes it. Click on the button below to donate to Jessica’s team.
The Story of the Stones
March 28, 2012 at 10:48 pm | Posted in Cemetery, Grief, normal?, traditions, twins | 9 CommentsTags: Jewish customs, new not so normal, twins, unexplainable
You may have noticed in my last post that Jake and Sawyer’s headstone is covered with stones. At the unveiling, Jake and Sawyer’s sister carefully arranged all of the stones. In fact, the twins each painted rocks for the occasion. She would only paint the smooth stones. He would only paint the rough ones.
The tradition of leaving rocks on the headstone signifies that someone has visited which honors the deceased person’s memory. The last scene of Schindler’s List depicts children of Survivors placing stones on Oscar Schindler’s grave.
There are many theories on the origins of this custom. A few are the following:
- The stones are a kind of calling card left for the deceased. Stones, unlike flowers, are permanent and do not get blown away in the wind.
- Jacob’s sons took a stone and put it on Rachel’s (their mother’s)grave to make up Rachel’s tomb. In placing stones on the grave one participates in building the tombstone.
- A large stone slab was placed on the grave so that it would not be lost. Rabbi Tam, goes on to explain that there were smaller stones that were set under the sides of the large stone that rests on them so that it will not bear down too heavily on the deceased.
- The ritual of placing a stone is a way of expressing our emotions and spiritual needs. Rabbi Andrew Straus explains that “we need physical acts to express these things for us, to make them concrete.”
“Placing a stone on a grave does just that. It works in several ways:
1) It is a sign to others who come to the grave when I am not there that they and I are not the only ones who remember. The stones I see on the grave when I come are a reminder to me that others have come to visit the grave. My loved one is remembered by many others and his/her life continues to have an impact on others, even if I do not see them.
2) When I pick up the stone it sends a message to me. I can still feel my loved one. I can still touch and be touched by him/her. I can still feel the impact that has been made on my life. Their life, love, teachings, values, and morals still make an impression on me. When I put the stone down, it is a reminder to me that I can no longer take this person with me physically. I can only take him/her with me in my heart and my mind and the actions I do because he/she taught me to do them. Their values, morals, ideals live on and continue to impress me – just as the stone has made an impression on my hands – so too their life has made an impression on me that continues.” Rabbi Tom Louchheim
I am sure there are more theories but no matter the origins I like the tradition. Evan and I collect stones from places we go. We have our own tradition of kissing the rocks before we place them on the headstone. We are sending kisses to Jake and Sawyer. I hope that they are getting them.
Time Traveler
March 26, 2012 at 10:44 pm | Posted in after death?, Cemetery, Grief, normal? | 6 CommentsTags: dark days, new not so normal, post traumatic stress disorder, Sawyer, unexplainable
I wish I could go back to this moment:
I sometimes do feel like I should be able to beam myself back to the fall of 2009. If I could just hold Sawyer one more moment. Kiss his sweet cheeks. Perhaps all the allergy medicine I have been taking has made me loopy. Or, maybe it is because I just finished the Time Traveler’s Wife. I pray every night that Sawyer will visit me in my dreams. He has not in quite a while. I wake up every morning knowing that I am still here in 2012 and this is our reality:
Running with the Rosebuds
March 20, 2012 at 10:48 pm | Posted in after death?, life after loss, Love, normal?, twins | 7 CommentsTags: Charlie, child loss, cystic fibrosis, hope, life after loss, perspective
Last weekend the twins ran in a race to support Cystic Fibrosis. One of my brother’s best friends, Charlie, had CF. Cystic fibrosis is an inherited, chronic disease that affects the lungs and digestive system of about 30,000 individuals in the United States, and 70,000 people worldwide. In the 1950s, few children with cystic fibrosis lived to attend elementary school. Today, advances in research and medical care have enhanced and extended the lives of children and adults with CF. Many people with the disease can expect now to live into their 30s, 40s and beyond.
Charlie’s parents were told that he would not live to be a teenager. He beat the odds and he did live past his teens, twenties and into his thirties. Charlie was an amazing person who inspired all who were lucky enough to know him. I hope that Jake and Sawyer have somehow been able to meet Charlie.
Both Evan and his sister have been diagnosed with lung diseases which CF research could potentially one day help.
Click here to see the twins race warm up.
Surprise it is Spring
March 18, 2012 at 5:34 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, normal? | 9 CommentsTags: dark days, post traumatic stress disorder, Sad, twins
“And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on. But on you will go though the weather be foul . . .”
Dr. Seuss
Spring is here. The days are sunnier. I feel quite the opposite of sunny. This journey of life and grief always brings dark dark days. At times I wish I could just disappear into the darkness. I cannot. So, I put on my sunglasses and follow these 2 out into the big world.
TMI vs. not TMI?
February 28, 2012 at 10:46 pm | Posted in life lessons, normal?, twins, venting | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, infertility, Jake, life after loss, parenthood, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
I do talk about Jake and Sawyer – and if you are reading this then you know I do write about them quite often. They are never far from my thoughts. However, I will at times not mention my 2 children who are not with me. Sometimes it is because I do not know the other person and will never see them again. Other times it is because I do not want to see the look of pity which often accompanies Jake and Sawyer’s stories.
Then there are times when I give too much information on purpose. I distinctly remember a wedding shortly after Jake died. Evan and I were talking to 2 other couples. One of the couples, who are our very good friends, like us did not have any children at home at the time. The 3rd couple kept mentioning their kids and the fact that we did not have any. They asked things like, “How long have you been married?” We each answered. Couple #3 followed up with, “So, aren’t you thinking about having kids?” We each politely tried to dodge the questions and change the subject. Couple #3 did not take the hints. I finally had enough. I wanted to stop this line of questioning. So, I piped up,”We buried our son a few months ago.” I thought that the conversation would come to a screeching halt. I was wrong. Couple #3 does not miss a beat, “When will you start trying again?”
The past few days I have been once again tempted to share too much information in order to stop a conversation. We have been receiving many emails about teacher appreciation week at the twins’ preschool. Each class needs volunteers for a specific time so the teachers can eat a child free (aka peaceful) lunch. The exact time the volunteers are needed is when Evan and I have a meeting scheduled with a rabbi to discuss Sawyer’s unveiling.
At first I did not reply to the emails. The emails kept coming. I drafted the following:
“I am sorry I cannot volunteer for the teacher appreciation lunch because we need to meet with a rabbi so that we can plan our youngest son’s unveiling. We have had trouble getting the correct headstone. Now it is here and the rabbi who presided over Sawyer’s funeral took a visiting rabbi assignment up north. He won’t be back till April. A very good friend put us in touch with her rabbi. We are meeting with him at the exact same time you need volunteers.”
I deleted my rambling email and opted for not TMI:
“Sorry again but I just cannot volunteer at that time this week. If something changes I will let you know asap. Hope that you have a good night. Thank you.”
Sometimes less is more.
Where are Sawyer & Jake? (part 2)
February 26, 2012 at 9:16 pm | Posted in after death?, Death, Grief, life lessons, Love, normal? | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, family, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, unexplainable
In this post I wrote that I believe Jake and Sawyer are in our hearts. I also believe they are close by. I do not have any proof. It is just a feeling (and a hope). Maybe at times it is more than a feeling.
Last year, in the last few days of Evan’s mother’s life she (Shelley) spoke about people in the room. She was at home. Family, friends and hospice were with her. A few times Shelley mentioned that there was a woman behind her and a little boy on the bench at the end of her bed.
When she was 17, Shelley took care of her sick mother. Shelley cared for her until she died 2 years later. Shelley was 19 at the time. Over 40 years later, Shelley spoke about a woman behind her bed. I believe that woman was her mother.
Evan’s sister asked questions about the woman and the boy. Shelley said that the boy seemed like he was around 6. At the time of Shelley’s death Jake would have been 5 1/2. I like to think that the boy was Jake.
“It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again. Nothing is dead; men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out of the window, sound and well, in some new strange disguise.” – – Ralph Waldo Emerson
It is all part of my new normal. The reality I live in now does not include Jake and Sawyer’s physical presence but they are always nearby. They send me signs – like when I see a praying mantis on the window of my parent’s 8th floor condo or a ladybug in the middle of winter. I will look for their signs while I wait to hold Jake and Sawyer again. As an extremely wise bereaved mom wrote, “a lifetime is an impossibly long time to wait to hold my child again.”
Things People Say (part 2)
February 6, 2012 at 10:20 pm | Posted in life after loss, life lessons, normal?, twins | 7 CommentsTags: infertility, motherhood, new not so normal, parenthood
In my last post I should have included the fact that I am positive I have said, written or done the wrong things at the wrong times. Almost every time I call my father-in-law, who is a recent widower, I cannot seem to stop myself from starting the conversation with, “How are you?” I try to rephrase the question as soon as it comes out of my mouth but it is always too late.
Over the weekend, I found myself in a conversation with a woman who is thinking about starting infertility treatments. I feel like I have earned a masters (or at least an honorary degree) in infertility. At first I started to tell her about the injectables, IUIs and the IVFs. Luckily, my brain kicked in before I opened my mouth.
I thought back to my life before the twins were born. Jake had died. There was no “your baby died, now you get a baby free pass” for me and Evan. Eventually we boarded the infertility rollercoaster. The sadness and desperation were all-consuming. Every month seemed like an eternity.
My friend was in pain and did not need to hear about my depths of despair. So, instead of sharing my war stories I gave her the phone number of my doctor. Then I told her if she ever felt like talking I would always be here to listen.
There seem to be endless opportunities in life to say the wrong thing. It is hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and separate out your own feelings. We all have different experiences. We start from a variety of places. Who is to judge what is right and what is wrong? All we can do is try our best.
If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.
If you want to be happy, practice compassion.
~Dalai Lama
After I did have the twins one of my favorite friends sent me the link to the video below. It makes me smile so I thought I would share.
Sunshine and Rain
January 30, 2012 at 11:14 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, normal?, silver lining | 7 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, rainbows
Weather is a great metaphor for life – sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad,
and there’s nothing much you can do about it but carry an umbrella.
~Terri Guillemets
Thank you for all the well wishes. Today was sunny and both of the twins went to preschool. This time of year the birthdays, anniversaries and yahrzeits for Jake and Sawyer are over. The “pressure to be happy because it the holidays” is over too. The dark days are a little less dark.
It helps that the sun has been shining and this winter has not been too cold. There has been a lot of rain and sometimes there are storms. It is all part of life. I wish some of the storms were not quite so severe but no one asked me.
When it does rain the twins usually belt out a few verses of “rain, rain go away.” This brings a smile to my face. If that does not do the trick then I can always fall back on the song Blame it on the rain by Milli Vanilli. “You can blame it on the rain. . .You got to blame it on something” is then stuck in my head for the rest of the day. So, even on the dark rainy days there is some light.
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