So March has rolled around, and I have been both looking
forward to it and dreading it. It was never planned this way, but the
anniversary of Parker's due date, and the age of our baby in India at the stage my
son’s pregnancy was when I lost him are coinciding. It seems like his one year anniversary was so
long ago. I suppose the difference in time is a reminder of just how early he
came. Our mailbox has become the central
point for this anxiety as Parker's baby registry was sold to MANY companies. We
haven’t received any mail for a long time regarding his registry until
recently. Now every day, the mailbox has been inundated with: "Your
toddler should be doing this….. So buy this….. And celebrate his one year
birthday with these decorations or at this fun play time place." And just
when I begin to think it is all over they keep coming, much like Vernon Dursley
getting Harry Potter's Hogwarts invitations.
If you lost a child,
it is hard not to daydream about them still being here with you - to imagine
them walking around your furniture, playing with Duplos, swinging on a swing, pulling your dog’s tail, and
all the little things toddlers do. But it’s a slope I must be careful not to
slide down. When I spend my time
mourning memories that never happened, it becomes difficult to focus on the joy
and love my world has to offer. These
flyers in my mailbox don’t remind me of what happened - how you can be reminded
of something you think of so often? But they do nudge me down that slope, I try
so hard not to go down.
I don't remember who wrote it or where I heard/read it, there
is a story that has brought me comfort. I hope those in our blog family dealing
with loss will find some peace in it as well.
There was a little beetle that lived in a village of beetles
on a lily pad. They had a great life and would dance and sing. But sometimes, one
of the beetles would crawl to the top of the lily pad never to be seen again.
The village knew the beetle died and this made them very sad. Eventually, the
beetles carried on with their lives, found joy, and began to dance and sing again. Then one day, our little beetle protagonist
felt an urge to crawl to the top of the lily pad. When he got to the top, he
could feel the warmth of the sun so he settled down and took a nap. When he awoke,
he was transformed into a dragonfly. He stretched out and began to fly around.
He could feel the sun dance on his wings and it was marvelous. He swooped and
soared, and it was so much greater than anything he had experienced in his
village. Then he thought about his beetle friends: Should he go back and tell them that it was
ok, that he was fine, and life was so much better? But after realizing how
great it was for him to discover this himself, he decided not to deny the same
experience to his friends. So he soared
off- happy!
As great as birthday parties, Duplo fun time, or pulling
little Winston’s tail would be (well maybe not for Winston), I much prefer to think that Parker is like the little
beetle experiencing so much more joy than is possible on our proverbial lily
pad - somewhere off in heaven, soaring his wings.
Oh Critty, you made me cry. My daughter left us in November, it is still so fresh and I still receive formula coupons and promos in my email inbox. I will keep the dragonfly story in my mind. :-)
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry to hear about your daughter. My son passed in November of 2011, and March of 2012 was very difficult. My heart goes out to you...
DeleteI remember getting "that mail" after my son passed which was four years ago. I like the story of the dragon fly as well. It puts things into perspective. I will say that it doesn't get easier but it becomes a part of your reality so it becomes easier to accept. I hope that makes sense.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry to hear about your son, I cant imagine it ever really gets easier. But what you said does make sense. Thanks for the support
DeleteParker is loved and will never be forgotten. Anniversaries are tough- sending you a hug!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the support, I really appreciate it.
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