Life Lessons (part 2)
January 12, 2012 at 11:22 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons, silver lining, twins | 14 CommentsTags: child loss, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, twins
“Today is the best day ever,” is a phrase the twins proclaim almost every day. This week I asked what exactly makes it the best day ever.
Day 1, we were in the carpool line and the teacher opened the car door. At that moment one of the twins proceeded to get sick in the car and on himself. His sister somehow managed to stay clean and went to school.
I drove home, cleaned him and the car. Our dryer had been broken so as I debated how best to clean the dirty clothes he announced, “This is the best day ever!” Really!? So, I asked him, what makes this the best day ever? He laughed as he replied, “The water you gave me after I got sick.”
Day 2, we woke up to this:
After we left the pediatrician to go pick up the prescription for pink eye, he proclaimed, “This is the best day ever!” I was so perplexed as to why he thought waking up with your eye glued shut and spending the morning at the doctor’s office was so fantastic. I asked again, “Really, this is the best day ever? What makes it the best?” He excitedly answered, “I get to go to CVS!”
Day 3, I had been up most of the night with the twins because of coughing and pink eye. They share a room so I decided to take one into the other room and hoped that everyone would get some sleep. The other room was originally our guest room. Then it was Sawyer’s room. Now most of Sawyer’s things have been removed, the guest furniture is in the room and it is still light green we had it painted before Sawyer was born.
I woke up in the morning and both twins were in the bed. They were talking about how Sawyer thinks this is the best day ever. I asked, “Why does Sawyer think this is the best day ever?” They replied, “He is so happy to share his room with us.”
There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them – Lawrence Welk
Memorials, Mickey & Moments
January 8, 2012 at 10:36 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, Love, silver lining, twins | 12 CommentsTags: child loss, family, gratitude, happy, Jake, Sawyer
This week was Sawyer’s yahrzeit, the anniversary of the Hebrew date he died. Evan and I lit a candle and said Kaddish (the prayer recited to honor the memory of those who have died). My mom recently emailed me an article titled “Memory is a Blessing” which discusses the prayer.
It is the responsibility of the Kaddish – the mourner – to keep alive the memory of the person who has died, to not forget and not to let others forget. . . .
Recite the prayer for him – yes – but also to remember – even if it hurts, even if it brings tears. To “be the Kaddish” is to be willing to talk about the person who has died, to tell stories and share memories even when it makes others uncomfortable.
During Sawyer’s yahrzeit, my parents so happened to take our family away on a vacation. I am so thankful to my parents for such a wonderful trip.
However, as a bereaved parent it feels wrong at times to have fun while also trying to grieve. I know that I am alive and Sawyer is not. It is complicated. I want to be happy and live with the twins while honoring Sawyer and Jake.
It is bittersweet.
Here is some of the sweetness:
And here is some more:
And although Sawyer and Jake were not physically there they have left us their own sweetness.
By love they are remembered, and in memory they live. . .
Even when they are gone, the departed are with us. . .
We remember them now; they live in our hearts. . .
Rabbi Hannah Orden
Life Lessons
January 2, 2012 at 10:50 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, life lessons, silver lining | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, holidays, new not so normal, rainbows, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable, year in review
Here are a few of the things I have learned so far in life. I did not necessarily learn them in 2011 but now seems as good a time as any to share them. Do you have any you would like to share?
This list is not complete and will most likely be ongoing for the rest of my life. They are in no particular order. . .
- When asked, “How you are?” Most of the time people just want to hear the response, “Fine” and go on with their day.
- Hug more. One of the twins loves to hug and be hugged all the time. I will actually be hugging him and he will say, “Mama, I need a hug.” I answer, “I am hugging you right now”. He responds, “Hug more.”
- Look for rainbows.
- Listen carefully. The twins wanted gelt, the chocolate coins which are given out at Hanukkah. However, they kept asking, “Is it time for Hanukkah guilt?”
- Music makes people happy.
- Tutus also make people happy (see above). And, apparently ties can be the reason for really big smiles.
- Sleep. Grief (along with life in general) is exhausting.
- Life can be heartbreaking, unfair and unexplainable. No one ever promised any thing different.
- Treasure the moments – you are never sure just how many you will have.
My New Not so Normal
December 30, 2011 at 11:40 am | Posted in Grief, life after loss, normal?, silver lining | 8 CommentsTags: acting, child loss, dark days, hope, Jake, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, unexplainable
In three words I can sum up every-
thing I’ve learned about life.
It goes on. ~Robert Frost
I am not the same person that I was before 2005 – before Jake died.
I went to where I thought was the deepest darkest place in my life. Then there came a day when I realized that I was still alive and I needed to figure out how to live in a world without Jake.
I called it my new normal.
I tried every day to just live. I went to work. I tried to interact with the rest of the world. When the twins were born my normal life revolved around them and their routine.
I have never gotten “over” Jake but I thought my new normal was working.
Until Sawyer died. My new normal was thrown a devastating curve ball.
There is nothing normal about 1 child dying let alone 2. I am now attempting to live my new not so normal.
This new not so normal is not easy for anyone. It is hard for Evan. Family and friends suffer the loss of Jake and Sawyer as well as their own challenges and losses in life. All I can do is try my best every day to live this new not so normal life.
I often repeat to myself a phrase that my high school track coach would yell after us as we ran, “whatever does not kill you will make you stronger.”
Angels
December 28, 2011 at 11:44 am | Posted in Grief, Love, silver lining, twins | 11 CommentsTags: gratitude, grief, Jake, life after loss, Sawyer, year in review
No words today – just pictures from the past year.
Muddy Snow Angel
Snow Angel in Action
Rug Angel
Bath Angels
Grass Angel
Another Grass Angel
Rock Garden Angel
Rock Garden Angel #2
Leaf Angel
Airport Floor Angel (yuck!)
Stuffed Animal Angel
Stuffed Animal Angel #2
Missing Angel
Okay – the last picture is not from 2011. We wish we had pictures from this past year of Jake and Sawyer.
So this is Christmas
December 24, 2011 at 11:58 pm | Posted in Grief, Love | 13 CommentsTags: Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, Sad, Sawyer, unexplainable
This is such a festive time of year. You can feel the happiness in the air. I want to wish everyone happy holidays but I may never send another holiday card again. I try in my own way. I do not always succeed.
I cannot figure out why anniversaries and holidays are harder. Every day Jake and Sawyer are gone. We are Jewish so Christmas should not be difficult except for the fact that it is also the anniversary of Sawyer’s death. No one is sure what time Sawyer really died. His death certificate says 4:30 am on December 26th. I believe he was gone before then but it does not really matter what time or place he died. It just matters that he did die. At times I fixate on the details and information I can understand to balance what I will never comprehend.
The last time I held him was at 10:45 pm on Christmas night. He was on the floor of our bedroom at 2:46 am on December 26th. The paramedics, the firemen and the police were there. No one would let me get close to Sawyer. In the ambulance I could not sit in the back with him. I sat up front feeling helpless and alone. Two years later I still feel helpless and alone.
I have hope and even joy but there is always something (someone) missing.
No matter what I do December 26th will come. I cannot make time stand still. I do not want to be any farther away from Sawyer than I already am but it will happen.
I wish I could go somewhere far away from our bedroom floor. I cannot run or hide. No matter where I go my grief goes too. I will keep very busy. I will be the best mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend and person that I can be. Again, I will not always succeed. I will have hope. I will wait until I can hold Sawyer again.
For some moments in life there are no words.
~David Seltzer, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
Tear Soup
December 20, 2011 at 11:10 pm | Posted in Grief, silver lining | 8 CommentsTags: dark days, hope, Jake, life after loss, perspective, Sawyer
After Jake died many people gave us books to read about death and grief. I could not read any of them for a long time. I was searching for steps to get through the grief. The first book I managed to read was Tear Soup by Pat Schwiebert and Chuck Deklyen. There are a lot of pictures and the story is simple. The book does not provide the “steps” I was looking for but it did help me.
The main character is Grandy, a wise old woman. She has suffered a big loss but the exact nature of the loss is not mentioned. She goes into her kitchen and cooks a batch of Tear Soup. The soup is made of memories and lots of tears. She cooks the soup throughout the book. She never really finishes cooking the soup but she does put some of it into the refrigerator to take out at a later time.
At the end of the book there are tips for the cook. I thought I would share a few of them:
• Grief is the process you go through as you adjust to the loss of anything or anyone important in your life.
• The loss of a job, a move, divorce, death of someone you love, or a change in health status are just a few of the situations that can cause grief.
• Grief is both physically and emotionally exhausting. It is also irrational and unpredictable and can shake your very foundation.
• The amount of “work” your grief requires will depend on your life experiences, the type of loss, and whatever else you have on your plate at that time.
• A sudden, unexpected loss is usually more traumatic, more disruptive and requires more time to adjust to.
• You may lose trust in your own ability to make decisions and/or to trust others.
• Assumptions about fairness, life order, and religious beliefs are often challenged.
• Seasons, with their colors and climate, can also take you back to that moment in time when your world stood still.
• You may sense you have no control in your life .
.• Being at work may provide a relief from your grief, but as soon as you get in the car and start driving home you may find your grief come flooding back.
• You may find that you are incapable of functioning in the work environment for a short while.
• Because grief is distracting it also means you are more accident-prone.
• The object of grieving is not to get over the loss or recover from the loss but to get through the loss.
• Over the years you will look back and discover that this grief keeps teaching you new things about life. Your understanding of life will just keep going deeper.
These days between Sawyer’s birthday and the day he died are difficult. I try to look back at what helped me in the past and hope that it will get me through these dark days.
“It is always darkest before the dawn.” Proverb
Dancing Dreidels
December 16, 2011 at 4:00 pm | Posted in Grief, Love, silver lining, twins | 14 CommentsTags: child loss, Jewish customs, new not so normal, parenthood, Sawyer, twins
Today the twins performed in their preschool holiday show. The first class to come out featured one of our singing candles:
Our other singing candle came out later with her class:
The younger 2-year-old class performed as dancing dreidels. The class seemed like it was missing someone. I could almost see the place where Sawyer should have been standing. I looked around the room to see if anyone else noticed. The moms who were pregnant at the same time I was pregnant with Sawyer were busy taking pictures of their adorable children.
I squeezed Evan’s hand and whispered, “this should be Sawyer’s class. . . ” Evan said, “I know.” Sawyer should be up on the stage too. I did not think anyone else noticed his absence.
I was wrong.
As we were leaving, the twins were piling all their papers and endless other accessories into my arms. I was trying to hold everything along with the balloons they each had been given. I accidentally let one go. I braced myself for the cries to retrieve the balloon. Instead they said, “Sawyer likes blue, that balloon is for him. Let the other balloon go too! The other balloon is for Jake.”
And so I let it go.
Somewhere over the Rainbow
December 14, 2011 at 11:22 am | Posted in Grief, Love, silver lining, twins | 11 CommentsTags: hope, infertility, Jake, new not so normal, rainbows, Sawyer
The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain. – Dolly Parton
A “rainbow baby” is a baby born following the death of your child. Urban Dictionary defines a rainbow baby as the following:
“In the real world, a beautiful and bright rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of things getting better. The rainbow is more appreciated having just experienced the storm in comparison.
The storm (pregnancy/child loss) has already happened and nothing can change that experience. Storm clouds might still be overhead as the family continues to cope with the loss, but something colorful and bright has emerged from the darkness and misery.”
After Jake died Evan and I both knew that we wanted to try to become parents again. I mistakenly thought that after your child dies you should get some sort of “get a baby free pass”. There was no pass for us. When we did start trying again we found ourselves on the roller coaster of infertility. We started with cycles of injectables. We moved onto 6 rounds of IUI’s (think turkey baster if you are not familiar with this term). Finally after 2 IVF cycles we were so very lucky to have our own rainbow babies in July of 2007.
In the fall of 2009 we once again had a rainbow baby.
Who knew another storm would come so soon? I am trying to learn from the twins how to look for rainbows everywhere. Some days it is harder than others to find any light through the darkness. The twins are pretty good teachers because the other day I looked out of the office building where I was working and this is what I saw. . .
After a hurricane comes a rainbow – Katy Perry
I just miss you
December 6, 2011 at 10:35 pm | Posted in Anniversaries, Grief, Love, mourning | 12 CommentsTags: acting, child loss, dark days, holidays, Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
Dear Sawyer,
It is me. Are you there? I know that I wrote a few weeks ago that I could handle the holidays. I was wrong. The dark days are back. It is part of the deal. This new normal life that I have been trying to create includes dark days. They creep up. I expect these days between your birthday and the day that you died to be hard. I try to lower my expectations of what I can handle. I wish the rest of the world would do the same.
I try to keep myself so busy that I cannot think. It is not working this time. So I try to act as if everything is okay. Most of the time I can fake it till I almost believe myself that life without you and Jake is perfectly fine. I cannot pretend. Life without you and Jake is not okay.
My arms physically ache to hold you. Every day that passes is another day farther from when you were last with me. When I hear other babies cry I can still tell that it is not your cry. Will the day come when I have forgotten the sound of your cry?
We have given away or packed up most of your things. We just cannot seem to go through the last few piles. The gifts that were sent to you the week you died. The clothes you wore that last few days of your life. The condolence cards. Your death certificate. The cards of the police detectives. They are all still here. I wish that you were here too.
I do not want pity. I want you. I am just sad. Life without you and Jake is so excruciatingly painful and bittersweet. I know that there is still light. I see it every time I look at your big brother and sister.
I just miss you. I will see you in my dreams sweet Sawyer.
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