Saturday, March 26, 2011

There is a balm, in Gilead!

This is the anniversary of my greatest loss, in life. Every loss is huge, at the time. I did think that Grandma Mon was worst, at that time and then others, but there was nothing like the loss of my infant to me. I truly hope that no other mother would ever go through that loss. I don't say this to minimize anyone else's losses, but to note, to my children the reason my mouth speaks of my griefs so often is the depth of this. I often go to God, in the light of the enormous comforts that he has showered upon me to lift me from my sorrows. I know that His Balm of Grace is the healing to my soul, but there is part of my soul, at least that will not understand until I get to Glory.
There are no words to describe how my mind replays those, most precious 21 days of my life, every March; with no audience, who can hear it.
For years, I poured out my sorrow, in a dramatic presentation of the book of Esther, to my children. Now, they are beyond that presentation. "Not again mother!", they say, with eyes rolling back in their heads.
Truly "there is a balm in Gilead, who heals the sinsick soul". My Jesus hears my cries, in March. Cries for my sad state. Cries that there is little comfort, in life, when a child is gone from your maternal grasp. Cries, that unbelief blooms, so rampantly, in my soul, through this season. Cries, that mothers don't appreciate the blessing of childbirth. Cries, that abortion is still so prevalent a part of our country's economic system. Cries, that I have done so little of the commitments to impress my remaining children of the importance of the things that God impressed upon me, through my griefs.
Every comfort seems to go deeply into my soul, as deeply as the cries are sobbed.

cries from my bubbles of grief...

22 years later, I can still remember, 22 cars at a 21 day old’s funeral. I remember the men who took the mantle of leadership and helps. I remember loved ones, from home, held me up. I was numb. I remember the blurr of hands that they had to guide me from one station to another. I couldn’t believe that the love of my life was gone. His birth was like Christmas,"Mother, it's a boy!" When I looked into his eyes at birth, I was his. Maternal love is like that. Nobody else matters. "I am sorry, mommy, I am afraid your baby has died." 21 days of love and life between. Spinal meningitis had taken him from my maternal grasp.
Engorged and in pain and in fevers and in grief, all of those sensorious things to remind me that something had happened completely outside of my realm of imagination. Even my dad said “everything that we do our whole lives is to keep us from standing at the graveside of our children. I don’t know how you can stand it?” I didn’t see him cry, but he sat with me in the front of the church, without a smirk at all. That, could have been one of my earliest comforts. I would have medicated me, looking back. I was definitely sick. Everything was like a dream, from the moment Dr. Bacha looked into my face, maybe until, well, I don’t know until when. It was dream like. Pain like nothing else, physical, mental smell pain, heart pain. I felt angels protect me from negatives. Some people said things that didn’t even penetrate the fog and others said nothing and it comforted. It was as though the angels themselves only stood aside when it was something useful for comfort, otherwise they stood in front of me. Ty and Sharon were constant comfort. They were the human angels.

I simply cannot tell how the comforts were magnified because the pain was so great. I closed my eyes and all I could see was his face. White and then blue and then the needles in his skull that they put. I couldn’t help anymore by the time we got to the hospital. The nurses talking in letters and codes and getting me out of the room to care for my 2 year old. Everybody trying to focus me away from the death. He’s gone. What else is there?

You have another child! You will have other children. Does that comfort? NO! not at that moment. He is gone. I can’t go home. I will just walk the streets looking for him, for the rest of my life. He must be there somewhere? That is irrational, but that is the sentiment. I will walk and look for him. I will cry until I cry my heart out. There is nothing else.

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Title- The Studious One!

Title-  The Studious One!
artwork by Elyse

Of biscuits and syrup

Of biscuits and syrup
tasty treats

Happy Saturday!

Happy Saturday!
a day at the Raptor Center.

Widdle Emmie in outer space school

Emmie jumped on the bus and off it flew out into the atmosphere. There was a set of clouds with turbulence right above the house and it took a few minutes for my Emmie to buckle her seatbelt. They hit the bump hard and it knocked my Emmie out of her seat and she bumped her head. The video camera came on and the monitor looked through and stated, Ms. Emmie, where are you? You are not in your seat. Where are you? I am alright I fell because I hadn’t buckled correctly. Well jump up Emmie we have a long way to go and you have to be buckled there is entirely too much turbulence in the stratosphere for you to unbuckle now. As soon as we are through this weather system there will be straight sailing but right now you must buckle. Emmie scrambled into the seat with intensity and purpose now. She watched every cloud pass her window and her nose was pressed to the window trying to see the top of the house as it drifted slowly out of sight. Soon they were not only out of sight of the house, the sun came out brightly and just as quickly they were putting on the atmospherical breathing apparatus and the outerspherical lights. The ABA and the OL. These precautions were to make them appear to be satellites to the radar as they were out in the ionosphere. Emmie knew all about this now. She had gone to the orientation and had a good breakfast and it took them 20 minutes for her to get out past the atmospherical pull and to feel the zero gravity. It would be 15 minutes before the gravity simulators would take effect, a glitch in the system which was being worked on. Until then, they enjoyed the couple of minutes of floatation, while being connected to the seats by belt. The first thing they saw everyday was the strataflotsam. The items which had been dumped into the atmosphere by earlier generations. What would their generation do about this ecological waste area that remained floating above their heads? This was a question for the generations. For now it was the area that they had to guide through on the way to school.

Midnight at the OASIS

Midnight at the OASIS
Sunset in Huntersville

My little Emmie

ran to the bus on the first day of the last year of school. 2 buns on the side of her head. She kissed me and ran at dawn to the bus. She was starting the adventure of a lifetime. I would never see that little girl again, she was going to woman school!

My Father and I 1989

My Father and I 1989

to the tune of Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme


Are you going to Mary Immaculate?

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

Remember me to the one who lived there,

He once was a true love of mine,

Tell him to buy me an acre of land,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

Between the muddy Hudson in Jamaica Bay,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine,

Tell him to sow in it seeds of pure cream,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

And build Ice cream mountains and buildings of whipped cream,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine,

Tell him to reap them with sickles of M&M’s,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

And chew bubble gum and eat till we’re done,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine.

Tell him to run it off down the motor parkway,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

After your done 50 pushups

and jog down the West Side Highway,

Then he’ll be a true love of mine…

(Don’t wait for me today dad, The kids are sick again, My tummy’s bulging again, My heart is aching again, And now there’s no love there…)

He once was, a true love of mine….So, Girls, I do beg you don't miss your Daddy,Apricots, Chocolate cherries and Pie,You have one short chance to see him on this side, Go visit him and let your light shine.