Sawyer | A Mourning Mom

Blog
About

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

Yahrzeit

December 15, 2010 at 4:44 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, traditions | 13 Comments
Tags: child loss, death, grief, Sawyer

As I wrote in this post, I really appreciate most of the Jewish mourning customs. And for the most part I am on board with observing the Yahrzeit, a time of remembering the dead by reciting the Kaddish, lighting a 24-hour candle, and remembering the person who has died. The Yahrzeit falls annually on the Hebrew date of the deceased relative’s death according to the Jewish calendar as opposed to the secular calendar.

My only issue with observing Sawyer’s yahrzeit (not counting the fact that I cannot spell the word) is that according to the Jewish calendar Sawyer’s yahrzeit is tomorrow. And, like most Jewish holidays it begins at sunset the night before and lasts for 24 hours. Tonight we will light a candle and say a prayer for our sweet baby boy.

We will say kaddish, a mourner’s prayer. Anita Diamant writes in her book Saying Kaddish, that “Kaddish reminds mourners of their obligation both to dream of a world of peace and to build it — without delay.” I think this means that I should continue to repeat to myself the phrase I have already mentioned in an earlier post. “Remember the past, hope for the future but live in the present.” And thanks to my very wise and close friend I have a new quote from the movie Kung Fu Panda:

“There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the “present.” ”

No promises that I can do this but I will try not to dwell on how different our lives were a year ago. I will try hard not think about the secular anniversary of Sawyer’s death because it is not today. I will try to stay focused on today’s gift.