Thursday, May 04, 2006

May 4, 2006

Theo's yoga class was just wonderful. I can't thank my teacher Nora enough for doing such a wonderful kindness for us. 25 people came and did yoga with us in a sacred space. I know Theo's spirit was there too. Very close friends from all different areas of our lives, fellow yoga teachers, people we have met recently and a few people who we had never met, but who were touched by Theo's story all came to honor his life and to share their love and support with us in a peaceful and relaxing space. Several things were left on the class altar in Theo's honor for us to take home with us, sprigs of rosemary for remembrance, a copy of The Little Prince, personal notes to Theo, flowers, a sparkly purple dragonfly to stick to a window, a crystal pair of praying hands and a beautiful silver bag with a lovely pair of dragonfly earrings made of silver with an amethyst body and opals for wings from two of my dear friends and fellow yoga teachers. Donations from the class were more than enough to pay the rent for the space for the class, for the memorial service and for the birthday cake I want to get to serve after the service to celebrate Theo's first birthday on May 26. After class, my friend Angela handed me a wrapped package from her mother Carol, whom I have never met, but who sent me an email several weeks ago sharing with me her experience with her baby boy Curtis who died at 5 days old in 1978. When I got home, I opened the package and found a long letter telling me all about his birth and death and how her life was changed and about the charm bracelet she had made when her second daughter was born a year after Curtis's death. It had girl shaped charms with her daughters' birthdays engraved on them. She said she felt that something was missing when she wore it and so took it back to the jewelry store where she had made a charm of a boy's head engraved with Curtis's name and birthdate to place beside the charms for her girls. With the letter was a black velvet box with a charm bracelet for me inside. On it was the same kind of boy's head charm with Theo's name and birthdate engraved on it, a silver dragonfly charm, and a heart shaped charm engraved with the date of his memorial service (and first birthday). I was so touched that she would think of me, put so much love and thought into such a special gift for me, someone she has never met, but whose grief she shares in her own loss. I was just brought to tears. So many people have done so many wonderful things to express their love and support, and to demonstrate how special Theo has been to their lives and I am so grateful. I said in our yoga class (through tears), this whole experience would not have been bearable without the love, support, prayers, healing and comforting energies, from so many people who love us, some without even knowing us. I can't imagine what this would be like without all of you who have been here for us, offering your strength, support and love.

There are so many times throughout the day that I just miss Theo so much. I have thoughts of Why? Why? Why? still, not always, but sometimes. I just want him back so badly. I have flashes of memories, sometimes good memories, sometimes bad memories. I know that it will be this way for a long, long time. Every one I talk to who has lost a child says, "You never get over it. It gets easier, but it never goes away." One woman told me she talks to her son every day. He died when he was 2 years old. Now he would be 19. I know that one day, when I see Theo again, it will be as if no time has passed at all, and we will talk about all this with no pain and no sorrow, but in the meantime, living here without him is just so hard. I was talking about Theo with a friend the other day and I said something about his having died two months ago and she said, "Was it really just two months ago? It seems like it was so long ago". It made me aware of the differences in how other people experience time and how, to others, his death may seem like something long past. In some ways, sometimes, it feels like it all happened long ago and in other ways, it seems like yesterday. Sometimes I can't believe that this time last year, I was still (hugely!) pregnant. On May 4, 2005 he wasn't even born into the world yet.

I was able to hold the new baby boy of one of my co-worker's today. After I gave him back to his mother and went back to my office, my heart hurt terribly, but I didn't cry and I was able to get back to work.

Things are going well with the new house. Right now, both places are just chaotic, with things everywhere, out of place. We have moved a lot of things to the new house as we have been painting and getting things ready. I still need to paint the guest room and the upstairs hallway and the kitchen cabinets. This coming weekend we are going rent a big truck and move the rest of our things--bed, sofa, dining room table and hutch, the rest of our clothes and few other things and start living in our new home. We have both been just exhausted with so much going on, painting and moving things every weekend. We look forward to having a cook-out/housewarming sometime in June when things are more settled.

Love to all,


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

A Mother's Day Wish From Heaven

Dear Mr. Hallmark,

I am writing to you from heaven, and though it must appear
A rather strange idea, I see everything from here.
I just popped in to visit, your stores to find a card
A card of love for my mother, as this day for her is hard.

There must be some mistake I thought, every card you could imagine
Except I could not find a card, from a child who lives in heaven.
She is still a mother too, no matter where I reside
I had to leave, she understands, but oh the tears she’s cried.

I thought that if I wrote you, that you would come to know
That though I live in heaven now, I still love my mother so.
She talks with me, and dreams with me; we still share laughter too,
Memories our way of speaking now, would you see what you could do?

My mother carries me in her heart, her tears she hides from sight.
She writes poems to honor me, sometimes far into the night
She plants flowers in my garden, there my living memory dwells
She writes to other grieving parents, trying to ease their pain as well.

So you see Mr. Hallmark, though I no longer live on earth
I must find a way, to remind her of her wondrous worth
She needs to be honored, and remembered too
Just as the children of earth will do.

Thank you Mr. Hallmark, I know you’ll do your best
I have done all I can do; to you I’ll leave the rest.
Find a way to tell her, how much she means to me
Until I can do it for myself, when she joins me in eternity.