Ethan and Dylan would have been turning 8 this year. We would have been enjoying the special opportunity of a double baptism for them. I have thought about this a lot. About a month ago I had a dream where I saw people sitting in chairs in a room that looked like a room in a church. Sitting in the row in front of me was Deke all in white. On each side of him I could see from the back a brown headed little boy in a white jumpsuit. One on each side of him sitting close against him. In my dream I knew that it was Ethan and Dylan. I woke up with actual tears coming down when I opened my eyes. I tried to shake the image from my head since it was so precious and tender it was unbearable to me. The sweetness of them so close to Deke all three of them in white preparing for such a special day. I wanted to have that moment. I yearn for it in a way that can't be expressed. This year has been hard. Every year comes with different emotions, in some ways I continue to see our forward progression. Yet I feel that particular moments from their birth and passing were so heartbreaking and painful that their sharpness will never dull or change. After eight years even the slightest bit of recollection of some of these moments and the exact feelings come flooding back as if I was right there again. I don't think it will ever change. This is a part of our loss that feels so heavy to me. Those moments of suffering in a way that I literally was sure I would die from sorrow will always be there inside of me. I won't ever forget them and they will be a part of me forever. I don't dwell on them, I dwell on my peace that families are eternal and my knowledge that I will be with them again some day. But they are still there and I still have to work to not think about it. The other day the kids were talking about going up for their birthday weekend to visit them. Deke was busy and work and I was hurrying about my evening getting everyone organized to go run an errand. I was changing Hudson, the girls were sitting playing on the floor across the room and Hunter was holding Hudson's hand and watching him. Out of nowhere Hunter said, "Mom, why did Ethan and Dylan die?" Feeling instantly the emotions rise words just tumbled out, "they were too tiny bud, babies need to stay in their mom's bellies until they are big enough to come out" he sat and thought on this for a moment as I wrapped up the diaper. "Then why did the doctor's take them out if they weren't ready?" Hunter's eyes questioned me. Again more emotion and words just coming out, "they had to Hunter they didn't have a choice it was an emergency." Images flashing in my head, coming at me one after another after another causing shooting pains like a heart attack. Vivid and strong as if I were right there again and I feel lost to them everything fuzzy around me. I fight to gain control, Hunter is still talking to me. Focus, hang on....listen to Hunter. He is staring at me. Okay what am I supposed to be doing. Oh ya, put Hudson's feety pj's back on and zip them. "You're okay MeKell, you're okay" I think to myself. Hunter smiles at Hudson and then looks at me, "Was it scary mom?" I'm not okay. I don't feel okay, I can't breathe. I say all that I can manage. "Yes Hunter, it was very scary." I tell myself to keep it together as I load Hudson into the car planting a kiss on his baby soft cheek, the tears are coming. I tell Hunter to "please help load your sister's into the car" as the three of them head out the door. I turn into the bathroom and shut the door and fall apart. Quietly but intensely letting the emotion pour out of me hoping to flush it out and have it leave me. I let my tears fall, I let my heart feel it. It feels again like I could die of the pain. I am right there again in the moment with them. Then I stop and gain control. My heart burns with love and my peace returns. I am okay. It is going to be okay. I grab some tissue and clean my face as I replace the pain with warm reassuring thoughts of what I believe and know to be true. I believe in His plan. My family is eternal and they are mine. This is hard but I am blessed and I love them more than anything. Looking put back together I head out to the car. I am not trying to put on a face and fake what it happening but I need my emotion to be in a place that is understandable for these four little people all staring at me. As I start the car I turn back and remind the kids that I know we all miss Ethan and Dylan and that it is okay to cry sometimes and feel sad about them but that then we need to remember that our family is forever. We talk for a minute about having faith and what Ethan and Dylan want us to do while we are waiting to be with them again. I am learning, I am trying to teach them faith. I will not feel guilt about these moments, what has happened to us is hard and it hurts. I will allow myself these moments. They come from the depth of my love for these two precious babies. As I read through Feb. Ensign there was an article called The Refining Fire of Grief. As I read through I saw this quote from Elder Lance B. Wickman of the seventy: "Grief is a natural by-product of love. One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at his suffering or eventual death. The only way to avoid the grief would be to not experience the love; and it is love that gives life its richness and meaning." It is my love for them. Even after losing them I would still not have ever changed having them because I love them so much. I love them so much. There is nothing more powerful and incredible than the way I love my children. I took this picture above of my kids thinking of Valentine's Day not realizing how appropriate it seems for this now. They are my heart. So I will continue to try to learn from this greatest trial of my life. I will continue to allow it to "refine me" and strengthen me. I will continue to allow my love to be felt as deep as it can go. I love you Ethan and Dylan. Happy birthday little guys....I love you.
1 comment:
Very poignant. Thanks for sharing. :)
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