Celebrate!

How does one celebrate life? In 1986, while I was pregnant I had ideas in my head of what my new baby’s life would be like. I had the fear of bringing a child into a world where the new ice age was still being predicted and the Russians could attack us at any moment, but pregnancy in and of itself proclaims optimism. Every time a person is pregnant the possibilities for potential are mind boggling. What will this life inside me do? Will great scientific discoveries be made? Medical advancements? Compassion to all one encounters? Will this baby know joy and laughter? As a mother, I wanted a grandiose life for this new baby. I wanted him or her to follow in the big footsteps of the older brother, Jacob and make us a perfect little family of four with a goldfish in a bowl and the hope of a dog in the future.

April 26 brought us a beautiful, silent bundle of pink whose life was not going to follow my grandiose agenda. During the days following her birth we were told we would possibly never be taking her home. And then told, she would go home, but we should expect quick deterioration ending in death within eighteen months. When the final diagnosis of PWS was given we were told she will live in constant hunger resulting in probable death in her teens. My world was shattered. I went from producing a child who would change the world to producing a child for whom I could not even satisfy all of her basic needs. I could clothe her: golly we did that!! the amount of pink in our house was like a cotton candy machine at the fair. I could shelter her: cozy and snug in a room with her brother in a house containing a nest of seventeen baby mice hidden in the bowels of the sofa. But the final of one’s three basic needs would never be attainable for this mother, I would never be able to keep her from being hungry.

I am using what would have been her 31st birthday to celebrate her life. I find that although I never, ever squelched her hunger, she had the grandiose life I had once dreamed would be hers. Scroll up and re-read what my hopes for that unborn child had been. She accomplished all of that and so much more. Her life exceeded my plans.

Great scientific discoveries? You know it! New methods of stretching and staining the bands of chromosomes. By age two she had already reached one of my dreams.

Medical advancements? Rock it, Katie-girl! Years of rigorous physical testing and daily injections by my brave girl helped to make growth hormone a common treatment for certain symptoms of Prader-Willi Syndrome.

Compassion to all one encounters? It isn’t often you meet somebody who never speaks ill of anyone. Of anyone. At her funeral a school mate of hers told me a story about how Katie had stood in front of one of the boys who had bullied her for years and told him she forgave him.

Joy and laughter? Abundant joy and laughter. Catching the biggest trout, getting a wild-draw four card in Uno, Cohen’s sweet baby face, Sophie splashing in her arms in the pool, Ellie patting her belly, Jacob dressed in a suit serving tea at her dress-up party, teasing about her social life from Coach, being able to recite all the things which made each of her students happy, just a few examples of all her joy and laughter. Planning her birthdays with Grandpa Jake was a huge source of delight. This year they get to celebrate together again.

Her life shattered my world. I hope you have someone who shatters yours. Someone who shows you how precious every moment is.

Celebrate.

Celebrate preciousness.

Celebrate life.

Happy birthday, Dad and Katie.

“Celebration is only possible through the deep realization that life and death are never completely separate. Celebration can only really come about where fear and love, joy and sorrow, tears and smiles can exist together. Celebration is the acceptance of life in a constantly increasing awareness of its preciousness. And life is precious not only because it can be seen, touched, and tasted but also because it will be gone one day.” ~ Nouwen

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Katie’s gravelights were a birthday gift from somebody who still loves her. Pink and purple solar powered fairy lights. 

In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another day just like today, and there will never be another just like it again. Today is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious today is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.” ~Buechner

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This epitaph was written for her by somebody else who loves well and is well loved.

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To know me, is to know the real thing.

14725582_10157611300170693_6112392010538025485_n Due to a domino effect of used refrigerators trading places, we now have, in our kitchen, a refrigerator that has never had a lock. It sat empty for five days like an alien life form that was a complete mystery. I was unsure how to approach filling it. There aren’t Katie drawers. No insulin or Bydureon rattles around in the “butter” compartment.

275 days into this life of grief, I still buy too many fresh vegetables and yogurt nobody ends up eating. Trips to the grocery store find me standing in front of a shelf not having any idea what to put in my cart. More then once I have walked through the store, pushed my empty cart back into the rack and driven away with nothing in my trunk. One day the butcher found me in such a reverie he said he almost jumped over the case to see if I was alright when I was not responding to his inquiries.

I don’t tell you this looking for pity or sympathy. I tell you so you know the real thing, the real me. I have this firm belief that it is important to share with others the lows as well as the highs. I think it might help somebody else to know what I am experiencing; it might mirror something they are enduring and help them to know how another feels, or it might help somebody who in the future will be in my shoes, or it might simply help you to know me better. To know when my participation in a conversation is non-existent, or distracted at best, that my mind doesn’t always focus or concentrate on what is being said or what is happening around me. Also, I tell you this because you endured all of my griping about the damn locks. You listened and comforted me when I complained about Kathleen‘s stupid syndrome. You knew it was never the inconveniences to me I was bemoaning, but the tragedy of a girl always being hungry which was my cause to wish for a day  I could have a refrigerator without locks. I have one now, I wish it was due to a cure instead of a death. Even without locks, at my house, we are still hungry for a cure……

~~“What we hunger for perhaps more than anything else is to be known in our full humanness, and yet that is often just what we also fear more than anything else. It is important to tell at least from time to time the secret of who we truly and fully are . . . because otherwise we run the risk of losing track of who we truly and fully are and little by little come to accept instead the highly edited version which we put forth in hope that the world will find it more acceptable than the real thing. It is important to tell our secrets too because it makes it easier . . . for other people to tell us a secret or two of their own . . . ” buechner

Wish!

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For more than half of my life as I blew out my candles, I only had one wish. I wished for Katie to no longer be hungry.This was my constant wish, not just for candle-blowing time.  Now she isn’t. My wish came true, not quite how I had imagined it would, but it came true. Tonight, at age 57 I needed a new wish. It came to me quickly. I wish everyone would have the opportunity to fully understand how much they are loved. It is a humbling feeling, one which will have you thanking your lucky stars, Almighty God, or your deity of choice. Every day since Katie died earlier this year, I have experienced love, care, and generosity from family, friends, neighbors, and almost strangers. There are so many people I have not yet thanked, so if you are reading this and have heard nothing from me, please know I am eternally grateful for whatever you did or provided for me. The magnitude of the love is overwhelming and inconceivable. It is also completely palpable. Grief is the hardest thing I have ever done. I was completely unprepared for grief. I have often stated, and still believe I have been in mourning since Katie’s birth. I mourned the child I expected her to be, the child I had planned on having and raising. She wasn’t who I was anticipating. That form of mourning did not prepare me for the slap in the face, punch in the gut mourning in which I am currently engulfed. I vividly remember the lecture and book by Kubler-Ross, but I don’t remember ever once being told how physical the grieving would be. I know I was never told that somebody who loves me would do my laundry or dishes or carry my purse and open my doors because I simply have no strength. Often I feel like a pile of tar in the middle of a Disney World parking lot on a 110 degree day. The Disney World reference is intentional, because I often think the rest of the world is running on Disney happy place steroids…..while I am the tar. People have been able to temporarily love me out of the tar state. Love has been made visible to me. I don’t wish the death of your child or any other calamity which might be the opportunity for you to realize the depth of love others have for you, so instead I wish you would be open to love whenever it knocks on your heart. Watch for love. Recognize love. Accept love. This I know…wishes come true. Allow yourself to be loved. Allow others to love you. It is, after all, my birthday wish.