Life
March 24, 2013 at 12:14 am | Posted in Grief, life lessons, Love, normal? | 4 CommentsTags: child loss, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, quotes, thoughts
Staying Present
March 18, 2013 at 9:56 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, Love, normal?, Sawyer, twins | 12 CommentsTags: cancer, child loss, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, quotes, staying present, Valerie Harper
Recently, I was reminded once again to live in the present. I watched an interview with Valerie Harper. She spoke so honestly about how she is trying to live in the moment and live her life to the fullest despite her terminal brain cancer diagnosis. In her interview, Harper reminded us all that “None of us gets out alive. Don’t go to the funeral before the day of the funeral.”
I replayed her interview in my head when I saw a daunting hill on mile 12 of the half marathon I was running. My first thought was to jump to the future (at least for a couple of hours to when I was showered and not running). I tried to focus on the moment. It was a beautiful day. Only 1.1 miles to go. The run was rough but I made it.
I again thought of Valerie Harper as I was helping the twins with their homework. One of the twins had the assignment to draw a family picture in order from tallest to shortest.
Who is the tallest? No problem. “Daddy is the tallest!”
Who is the shortest? Tougher question. “Mama, who was taller, Jake or Sawyer?”
The “not living in the moment me” would have taken into consideration that Jake should be 7. He should be taller than the twins and Sawyer (who should be 3).
I pulled myself back to the present reality. I answered, “Jake was the shortest.”
My therapist is always reminding me not to grow Jake and Sawyer up. The loss of Jake and Sawyer as babies is horrible enough without also grieving the loss at every age. I am still working on this. . .
Tears in Heaven
March 12, 2013 at 9:50 pm | Posted in after death?, Love | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, new not so normal, parenthood, perspective, thoughts, tragedy, ways to honor the memory of your child
In my 20’s I went to see an Eric Clapton concert. He sang “Tears in Heaven.” I knew that he had written the song for his young son, Conor, who had died. Below are the lyrics in case you have not heard the song:
Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would you feel the same
If I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong and carry on
‘Cause I know I don’t belong here in heaven
Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven?
I’ll find my way through night and day
‘Cause I know I just can’t stay here in heaven
Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees
Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please
Beyond the door there’s peace I’m sure
And I know there’ll be no more tears in heaven
Eric Clapton wrote in his autobiography that “Tears in Heaven” did not have a big budget but “If you really want to know what it cost me then go visit my son’s grave in Ripley, England.” He went on to write that this song was originally not meant for the public. It was part of his grieving process. What finally convinced him to release the song was the hope that it would help others.
In my 20’s I had no way of identifying with this enormous loss. I just enjoyed the concert. Now when I listen to the song I know all too well the heartbreak and sadness. If I could have warned my 20-year-old self, what would I say?
Yesterday
March 4, 2013 at 11:07 pm | Posted in after death?, Cemetery, Grief, life after loss | 12 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death, death of a baby, family, grandparents, Jewish customs, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective
Yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of Evan’s mom’s death. It was also the day of the unveiling of her headstone. She had asked that this poem be read:
To Those Whom I Love And Those Who Love Me
written by Mary Alice Ramish
When I am gone, release me, let me go
I have so many things to see and do
You must not tie yourself to me with tears
Be happy that I have had so many years
I gave you my love, you can only guess
How much you gave me in happiness
I thank you for the love you each have shown
But now it is time I travelled on alone
So grieve a while for me, if grieve you must
Then let your grief be comforted by trust
It is only for a while that we must part
So bless the memories within your heart
I will not be far away, for life goes on
So if you need me, call and I will come
Though you cannot see or touch me, I will be near
And if you listen with your heart, you will hear
All of my love around you soft and clear
Then, when you must come this way alone
I will greet you with a smile and say welcome home
We placed stones on her grave. Evan and I had brought stones from Sawyer and Jake’s headstone.
I am so lucky to have had her as my mother-in-law. I will always be here to tell the twins stories about their amazing Mom Mom. I know I wrote in my last post that I bargained my life (and Evan’s) but it was never with the intention of leaving the twins. I was just a desperate mother who wanted the impossible.
Rancic, Relationships and Reality
March 2, 2013 at 11:28 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons | 7 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, Giuliana Rancic, Jake, marriage, parenthood, Sawyer, thoughts
In a recent interview Giuliana Rancic told US Weekly “We’re husband and wife, but we’re also best friends, and it’s funny because a lot of people, when they have kids, they put the baby first, and the marriage second.” Giuliana and her husband Bill went through infertility treatments for years. She battled breast cancer. In 2012 they had their son, Edward, with the help of a surrogate.
The Rancics have had a tough road to parenthood. I do not judge other parents and their decisions. I believe the balance of marriage and parenthood is difficult. I understand both sides of the debate which Giuliana’s comments created but I have a confession.
The night that Jake died and the night that Sawyer died I bargained with G-d. I pleaded that it should be me and not them. I offered to trade my life for theirs. I also offered Evan’s life. I would have switched places with my children without hesitation or any consideration of our marriage. I think that Evan would have as well.
The pleading and bargaining did not work. Evan and I are still here. Sawyer and Jake are not.
Sunshine and Rain (part 2)
February 28, 2013 at 11:24 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, Love, normal?, Sawyer, twins | 7 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, dark days, death of a baby, hope, Jewish customs, kids are smart, perspective
Thank you all for the kind words of encouragement. The rain has stopped and there is some sunshine through the clouds.
When it rains one of the twins usually says “HaShem is crying.” This week, I decided to ask, “Why do you think HaShem is crying?” He responded, “I don’t know, mama. Maybe HaShem is very sad.”
Ever since Jake and then Sawyer died I do feel like the rain is tears. Sometimes I will confess that I am glad it is raining because it matches my sadness. And, as an added bonus the raindrops disguise the tears running down my cheeks.
However, the other twin chimed in with her own answer. “Maybe they are not tears of sadness. Maybe they are tears of happiness.”
Silent and Stuck
February 18, 2013 at 10:30 pm | Posted in Anniversaries, Grief, Jake, life lessons, Sawyer, why I write | 13 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, holidays are hard, life after loss, moving forward, new not so normal, perspective
Sawyer was born right before Thanksgiving and died Christmas night. So, since he died the holidays have been especially hard. If I am honest with myself the holidays have been excruciatingly difficult since Jake died. Pretty much November, December and most of August (the anniversaries of Jake’s birth and death) are not my favorite times of year.
Life is a roller coaster. I definitely got that message. On a roller coaster there are usually some ups after the downs. However, this year after the anniversary of Sawyer’s death there was no up. My grandfather died. My cousin’s partner lost her battle to breast cancer. Funeral. Shiva. Unveiling. Family drama.
Evan is fine now but had a few health issues that once again shook me to my core. I have been stuck. There might not be an up in sight but I have to keep moving forward.
Dinner Conversations & Divorce
January 30, 2013 at 10:52 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life lessons, normal? | 7 CommentsTags: after death?, child loss, death, death of a baby, divorce, grandparents, Jake, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
At dinner the other night the twins started to discuss the fact that some of their classmates live with only one of their parents. Evan and I tried to explain that sometimes parents do not always live in the same house. This did not get us very far.
The twins responded in unison, “Why???”
“Why would a child’s parents not live in the same house.”
Good question. Okay, I tried another angle.
I responded, “You know that daddy’s parents did not live in the same house? Remember we visit Mom Mom and Pop Pop’s house and Grandmom and Grandpop’s house?”
Quizzical looks from both of them let me know that they were processing this information. After a moment, he looked at me and said, “Well now that Mom Mom is dead does she live with Grandpop?”
Evan and I looked at each other. Neither of us had a response to give to our son. Luckily, his sister answered. “No silly! Mom Mom lives with Sawyer, Jake and Grandpoppy!”
Maybe
January 24, 2013 at 11:48 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life lessons, normal? | 5 CommentsTags: baby loss, Buddha, child loss, death of a baby, grief, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
Maybe (Taoist story)
There is a Taoist story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.
“Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it 3 other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.
“Maybe,” replied the old man. The next day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. “Maybe,” answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. “Maybe,” said the farmer.
After Sawyer died, one of Evan’s friends came over to see us. Those days were such a blur that I do not remember his exact words but I will try to give you the basic gist. He explained that sometimes things happen and we do not see or understand why at the time. We may never understand why but the fact that Sawyer died could influence someone or something in the future.
I, of course, responded that I will never understand why.
He went on to say that some events need to be looked at in different ways.
I again responded that I have examined and reexamined every angle of Sawyer’s death and could not find anything except for earth shattering pain, emptiness and never ending darkness.
However, he continued to make his point in a way that I could actually accept. He gave the example that when the twins grow up that their experience of Sawyer dying could impact them beyond my initial thoughts of how they would grow up without their baby brother. They could be perhaps go on to discover a cure for whatever caused Sawyer’s death. In that moment I grasped the fact that something good could possibly result from Sawyer dying. Maybe, just maybe.
Stuff
January 16, 2013 at 9:16 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, normal? | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, grandparents, grief, Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, Sawyer
Very often “get rid of clutter” is at the top of my to do list. Okay, sometimes I put it at the top of Evan’s to do list. I am overwhelmed by the piles of paper, toys, laundry, and stuff in general which seems to fill up the world. However, there is some clutter that I just cannot part with. The hospital bracelets from Jake’s tiny ankles, the smallest “sunglasses” which covered his sensitive eyes, every little thing that touched his body came home with us.
Sawyer had a lot more stuff. Right after he died we packed up, donated or got rid of most of the things he never wore or used. The things he did wear and use stayed on a shelf. Year after year Sawyer’s stuff did not move. Except for the sock.
I recently went on a business trip and when I got home Sawyer’s stuff was not on the shelf. I backed out of the room and went in again. It was still not there. I yelled for Evan. He calmly explained that he moved it. Just like that. He moved it to the same place where Jake’s stuff is kept.
Logically, I know that it is all just stuff but these are the only things that we will ever have that were Jake’s and Sawyer’s. I thought about these things as I threw out garbage bag after garbage bag of stuff as I helped to clean out my grandfather’s home. Why did I find it so easy, even therapeutic, to throw away his things?
I decided that my lifetime of memories with my grandfather made all the material things not necessary. I do not need stuff to remember him.
On the other hand, I had such a short time with Jake and Sawyer. There are not so many memories or stories to tell. So, I will hold onto the stuff that I can.
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A Mourning Mom 