I am very, VERY tired this week (and last).
Dragging my butt through day after day, workout after workout, thinking I just had to kick myself into high gear...
Most who know me already know... and for others who did not know this yet- this Saturday, May 10, would have been the eighteenth birthday of our third child, second son, Cassady. 
Cassady was a full term, over ten pound baby boy. His heart fluttered but a few beats on its own, and the remainder of his time here, in our midst- the briefest of existences- was spent on life support. Until we were informed that we had to make the call as to whether the tubes and lifelines should be removed.
Though I remember that moment as one of the most difficult decisions of our lives, it was really very simple. Cassady was an infant body. It seemed when I held him, that his soul had kissed me, and was gone. There was no essence, life- force, prana, to hold him to this plane. His brief appearance was a life lesson, of the fleeting and precarious nature of our existence, that nobody wants to be given. And it touched us, and those around us to a depth that still ripples beyond. 
I mark the day with the 'family birthday cake', planting a perennial, and a reflective pace. And my body remembers.


Picture
I will continue to sketch/ watercolour, play with words, and allow the quiet introspection that comes with this anniversary to be my guide this week. 

I wrote a poem a number of years ago that still feeds my tired body on this  sad occasion:

On Being With the Dead and Dying                        

Or
Whispers to my Son in the Night


Ode to the love, my small child-

And to the pain- joy, laughter and grief

That your spark has endowed.

Your body breathed, only

The essence of artificial life-

Man- made air forced through your tiny lungs

With masks and tubes.

וְרוּחַ אֱלֹהִים, מְרַחֶפֶת עַל-פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם.

Breath of the divine

Grazed over the top of your head.

It met my lips,

As I memorized the feeling of your downy head

With my kiss.

I gave your cold, small body,

Purpling and bluish,

To the tender hearts of my young children.

Their hands reached out for you,

Cold against cold,

Souls aching in unison,

We chanted our pain.

Birthed into love,

Buried with love.

Your   transitory encounter with this life-

The definition of pure love.

And still,

Your brief appearance on this plane,

Intersecting our lives,

And forever changing our experience of this worldly existence;

Brings purpose to our lives.

I have held, in my own hands,

The ephemeral-

The fleeting moment when life is given

And then, is gone.

One heart beating it’s fluttery rhythm,

Devoid of prana,

You have given me the gift of the deepest wisdom.

*The Hebrew text above translates as: And the spirit of god blew across the face of the water.


And so, my art, my words, my reflection for the remainder of this week will focus on the profound joy, AND grief, that all of my children and granddaughter ignite within me. My work will stand as a prayer, of sorts, for the safe passage of my loved ones through this life. (But not SO safe that they don't brush up against the experiences that teach us such deep love. I wish I could spare them from grief, but, of course, I cannot.)
I will TRY to be gentle with myself- my body remembers.
EAT birthday cake, dance and cry... 
For this week, my intention will be to feel this very human existence, in its pain and reverie.

Please comment, email, FB your thoughts.
namaste.
 


Comments

Danica
05/06/2014 3:49pm

Oh Yona. I can remember almost every part of that day and the days after. I remember hugs and words and silence. And I can remember the grief I felt. Now a mother, I remember that day and I hold you and your family that much closer. This post slowed me down and I let the tears flow for you and Cam and Marin and Charlotte. And Cassady. Love and light and blessings. Now and always.

Reply
10/11/2016 8:24am

What a beautiful words you have for me! thanks. Always yours.

Reply
05/06/2014 4:40pm

Danica- thank you so much for your response. And thank you for remembering Cassady.
I can't believe it's been 18 years- as his birthday approaches it feels like yesterday.

Reply
Shelley Jacobs
05/06/2014 5:06pm

Big hugs to you Yona.You are one of the strongest people I know. I love you, friend.

Reply
Thea
05/06/2014 9:06pm

Beautiful reflection Yona. I just can't believe it's almost been 18 years since baby Cassady touched so many lives. Reading your post brought about a flood of tears and emotions. While I remember the grief, pain and sadness of that day like it was yesterday, I also have very fond memories of friendship, support and love. Thinking about you, Cam, Char, Marin, Cassady and Ryder and sending my love during this difficult week. Big hugs!

Reply
Yona
05/07/2014 7:17am

Thank you to all who have sent me messages of loving support.
It DOES lighten the feelings of grief to know that there are so many who reach out to help us stand.
much love...

Reply
Louise
05/07/2014 8:02am

Beautiful post, Yona. Much love from our family to yours.

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Donna
05/07/2014 7:34pm

I will hold you and Cam in my heart this week Yona....as you remember and feel the loss.

Reply
Tracy
05/08/2014 2:10pm

Beautiful words Yona-
Such heartfelt and emotional thoughts are in your poem...
It is so brave of you to face this each year and to go through all of the emotions that it conjures.
I hold you all closely as you remember Cassady.
xo

Reply
06/21/2016 7:19am

There may be noticeably a bundle to learn about this. I assume you made certain nice points in options also.

Reply
10/11/2016 8:23am

I must agree with you. I'm tired this week and the past. This was a hard part.

Reply
10/11/2016 8:26am

I want to see the complete sketch work. Do you find it successful?

Reply
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