Names in the sand (part 2) and Spam
April 12, 2013 at 8:36 am | Posted in after death?, Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love, Sawyer | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, death, death of a baby, gratitude, hope, perspective, thank you, thoughts, ways to honor the memory of your child
So sorry if you recently received spam from me. I have changed my password and hopefully I should be spam free now.
In case you could not see the link to Jake’s name in the sand here it is:
Thank you again Carly Marie! Here is Sawyer’s too:
Sending you all hugs and hope. I truly appreciate you reading and remembering Jake and Sawyer.
Names in the Sand: Jake and Sawyer on Christian’s Beach
April 8, 2013 at 12:02 am | Posted in Grief, Jake, Love, Sawyer | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, Christian's Beach, death of a baby, gratitude, life after loss, Names in the Sand, new not so normal, ways to honor the memory of your child
I am forever grateful to Carly Marie. This past week she wrote Jake and Sawyer’s names in the sand on Christian’s beach in Western Australia.
Carly Marie began writing names in the sand after her son, Christian, died. And so began Carly Marie’s Project Heal. She writes “it is a simple act that recognizes a life. It gives something beautiful to a family that may only have a few memories of their child – or even none at all.”
If you or someone you know would like to request a name be written on Christian’s Beach click here. The wait list is closed right now but she will post when it will open.
Thank you again Carly Marie!
“At the end of the day all the children of heaven come together to paint the colours of the sunset”
– Carly Marie Dudley
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.
My Ghost of Christmas Past
December 26, 2012 at 12:02 am | Posted in Grief, Love, mourning, normal?, why I write | 21 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, holidays, Sawyer, unexplainable
Dear Sawyer,
This picture of you looks as if I could just pick you up. My arms ache every time I look at it. I cannot believe I will never hold you again. I should have never let you go that night. If I knew it was the last time I was ever going to hold you or kiss you I would never have put you down on December 25th three years ago. If I were holding you would I have been able to save you? Why did you have to go? Will we ever know? So many questions without any answers.
The rational part of me knows that even if I ever do find out why you died it will not make a difference. You will still be dead. And, I will still be alive. The irrational part of me thinks that if I could just understand your cause of death I could protect you. Change the fact that you are gone. The logical me then takes over again and argues that if we knew the cause then we could test the twins. We could prevent other children from dying. The rational, irrational and logical me might be battling it out forever. None of us will win. We will have all lost.
I hope that I can always remember how it felt to hold you. I want to permanently erase the images of you in the emergency room. Unfortunately, they are burned into my mind. Luckily, there are other pictures of perfect little you. . .
Missing you always and forever. I will look for you in my dreams and hope that I can hold you again one day. I love you to the moon and back.
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