When my mother died, 22 years ago (give or take a few months), a friend handed me a poem and told me not to read it that day or the next, but when I was ready. She said I would know when I was ready. I waited until curiosity got the best of me and I sat down on the couch and read her card.
She told me that when her own mother had died, someone had given her this and while she didnt believe in such things as God or heaven, it did - eventually, bring her comfort and that she hoped that for me it did the same. I unfolded the piece of paper and started reading. Before I was finished with the brief lines, I was sobbing uncontrollably with the truth of it. But I also felt a small glimmer of hope, of dare I say joy? No, the feeling of joy came much, much later. In all honesty, when I read it now, I still cry because even after all this time, the pain of her leaving is so fresh.
But I'm feeling selfish too. Oh how I miss my mother. I wish she could see me now, that she could meet my husband and my children. How I wish I could sit next to her on the couch during the Ohio State football games - knowing full well it would mean my she'd pound on my legs in excitement. I wish I could hear her singing again. I wish... I wish... I wish... I want my mother. I want her back and that's so selfish - to want to take her from heaven and bring her back here. But I do, I want to tell her I'm sorry. I want to tell her that I dont hate her, that I never did. I want her here. I am not a grown up. I'm just a little girl and I need my mommy.
My best friend is facing something that took me completely by surprise. She knows her mother is dying. She is bearing with grace that which brought me to my emotional knees and I wish to God that I could take the pain from her. I know what's coming. I know the feeling of being vulnerable, of being little, of being a child that happens when your parent dies. But someday, when she's ready, I'll share this poem with her too and pray she also sees the hope in it.
And That Is Dying
I am standing upon the seashore
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in my, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
And that is dying.
*Source: "Gone from my sight" The Dying Experience, Barbara Karnes, copyright 1986
My son just turned four years old last Thursday. He is beautiful and engaging and so smart. But this weekend I was reminded of what a sick world we live in. I was reminded that there are unscrupulous people out there who will do anything, and I do mean anything for a breath of attention from someone else.
When I first knew I was pregnant back in 2008, I joined the online community at Whattoexpect.com, commonly known as WTE. I found my homeboard for my due date, March 2009, and settled in to the daily questions of everything from "Am I having a miscarriage?" to "Is that a kick or gas?" Sadly, we did lose a few to miscarriages or arguments - we were a board of hormonal, pregnant women, there were arguments. But by the end of the forty weeks, we'd formed a fairly tight group.
I will never forget the day it happened. One of the ladies, one of my friends, had felt her stomach tighten, and with that, felt her baby boy moving less and less until she didnt feel him. She tried resting after drinking juice or really cold liquids but nothing worked. So she came in to see the doctor and found out that her baby had died. We were all shocked. When you get to the end, you feel like,"Ok, I've made it, I can breathe now." But as we sadly learned, that it was not the end. Tragedy can and does strike. In the United States, it occurs in 1 out of 115 births. The pain is unmeasurable and intense.
Our friend stayed in touch with us and shared the beautiful pictures that the hospital had arranged to take of her son. While I dont know if they're something I'd have done, I have to admit they're beautiful. You can see the sadness on the faces of family and the boy was so peaceful and beautiful. The pictures stab at a place in the heart so dark and deep, the place where you put things you dont want to talk about happening to you as if talking about it will jinx you. It is those pictures that are at the heart of my blog today.
My son just turned four, I just mentioned that earlier. The anniversary of her son's death was also last week. Imagine her pain, her horror at finding out that not one, but at least two women have used the picture of her son that she placed on Facebook to get attention for themselves. One woman used the picture to show other women in a Grief and Loss page on Facebook to get these women to give her love and support over the loss of her son. Another woman used that same picture to create an entire memorial web page for the loss of her son, pretending that our friend's son was hers.
What is wrong with people? Are their lives so empty that they must do this to get attention? Do they get a twinge of sick enjoyment out of hurting other people? Do they get off on the "oh you poor woman, how sad for you"? It just makes me angry. It makes me want to find them and slap them. Instead, I used the technical age to help my friend. She was afraid that with people posting on the website that the woman was a fraud that she'd shut down the site before the authorities could be alerted. So I saved both the website and the source code of the website for her. But my heart still hurts for her.
It used to be enough to tell people to be careful of what they posted online in case they didnt want it seen. Now you'll have to warn people not to post pictures that other people may steal as their own.
