The day after he died I thought Lu was next and me right behind her. On days two through five I was certain of it. At the time I talked a lot about how we couldn’t let this loss destroy us and poison us and tear us apart but they were words mostly, words I spit out into the World hoping I could make them true. I had no confidence at all but no one knew.
The rest of this post can be found at Glow in the Woods as part of Angie’s Right Where I am Project.
Advertisement
4 comments
Comments feed for this article
June 3, 2011 at 8:29 am
Tracy
I was outside last weekend in Silas’ rock garden. Cleaning off the branches and leaves that winter had left behind. I put my hand on his rock for a while and thought deeply about him. How missed he is. How heartbroken so many are over the loss of this perfect little baby. Then I thought about the strength he helped his mom and dad find. Deep down strength. Strength they never even knew they had. Strength they never knew they would need, but nonetheless, powerful, withstanding, overwhelming strength. At the time, we all thought that the visits, calls, e-mails and thoughts were giving you strength, when all along, it was seeing your love–for Silas–for each other–that was the real force.
As always, we are here for you, and thank you for being there for us and continuing to take us on your journey. xxoo
June 8, 2011 at 3:35 pm
sheila
Both you and Lani’s posts on where you are now are amazing. And I second what Tracy writes so beautifully as well. During those early days, we wanted to reach out and give you things – hugs, food, messages, company… anything to let you know that there was love in the world directed at you. But of course, nothing we could give or share could ever be enough. But what’s truly amazing is that you both started to give and share of yourselves. Your blogs became spaces where you let us know that you were still standing, and still feeling, giving and accepting love, even amidst the complex and heartbreaking constellations of emotions that you so eloquently describe. As a friend, I feel a special connection to your blogs and I deeply admire just how much of yourselves you are willing to share. What has been most inspiring is, as Tracy said, your abundance of love, for each other and for Silas.
And if it ever felt like the rest of us (your friends) just continued on as normal after the catastrophe of your baby’s death, please know that for us, life did not move forward in the same way after your son passed — we felt that rupture in the universe and we still ache for you and for what should have been. Now, Silas has become a part of each of us. His life’s story imparted a certain knowledge about life that I did not have before and that knowledge has affected the way I see and think about the world, it teaches me kindness and patience on a regular basis. And then there’s the grace that you two have found in yourselves and shared with others, the courage you show in articulating the most raw emotions imaginable, the pain you don’t even try to avoid because it is itself a connection to your son…how could knowing all this and being close to it (through your writing) not change the people who care about you? we are all a little more human somehow because your beautiful boy and your boundless love for him have been a part of our lives, so thank you again for sharing so much of yourselves through this difficult journey.
June 19, 2011 at 9:00 pm
Andrea
I don’t know how to express how grateful I am when I read your blog, from your feelings after Silas died to your journey through infertility to where you are now. Somehow, whenever I’ve peeked in here to read, you’ve written something that resonates with me or that I needed to hear. I do not know in my bones all the losses you have experienced, but somehow your willingness to speak honestly about them reassure me that we are not the only ones struggling with grief or loss.
Today, I am grateful to read about grappling with hope and expectation in an uncertain world. We have ridden the infertility roller coaster and come out the other side on the path of adoption. As possibilities open up to us, we too are hoping in the face of uncertainty. I relate to so much of the emotion of this post over on Glow in the Woods and your earlier post here. Thank you for writing so eloquently about it all.
Sending you and Lu and the little one all the hope in my heart.
September 14, 2011 at 6:16 am
Heather
I’m thinking of you as Silas’ birthday draws near. I look up into the night sky every September and think of him. Thank you for sharing him with me.