Laws and Prayers

Yesterday Suzy took me to see her acupuncturist who also happens to be a spiritual healer.  She picked me up around lunchtime and we drove to La Crescenta (which isn't nearly as far away as it sounds 101/134/2/210).  I had been in hysterics all morning, hardly able to take a full breath, asking myself all of the same questions: Why my Max?  How am I expected to go on living now?  What went wrong?  Will I ever find any meaning in my life again?  When I walked  into her office, my shoulders started shaking and tears were pouring down my cheeks.  She told me that she wanted to help me achieve some calm.  She asked me a little about Max.  I told her next to nothing, no more than Suzy told her on the phone earlier.  That Max was nine months old, that he stopped breathing at daycare, that they are calling it SIDS for now because that is what they call it when your baby dies and they have no medical explanation for what happened.  She held my feet and looked in my eyes and felt my pain.  Then she told me that Max was not dead, his spirit was very much alive and he was, in fact, in the room with us.  She was having a little conversation with him while he hovered over my right shoulder.  She told me it was his time to go.  That his earthly life had been full of love and happiness.  That he was upset that his dad and I were so sad.  Then she said, "Max is asking about your mother.  He wants to know how your mom is".  I told her that my mother had broken her arm and that it was a really bad break.  She smiled and told us that Max is arranging distractions now for our family.  I guess we can thank Max for Ted's crazy insect sting too.  She confirmed that we can.  She mentioned a few things that stick with me, that even if I think that this was a bunch of nonsense, made me feel better.  She said that Max loved bath time, that a few times the water was too cold, but that he really loved it.  She mentioned a plastic toy, which I had just been telling my mom about that morning, that Max liked to hold.  She also talked about something blue being buried with him - he is wearing his blue Giants football PJs.  For sure it is safe to say that plenty of babies like bath time, plastic toys and blue (pink for girls) but I choose to believe that she had a short encounter with my Max.
Spiritually speaking, I don't know what I believe in really anymore.  Obviously we are Jewish, and there is so much wisdom, love and tradition in Judaism.  Ted and I were fans of The Secret a few years ago.  More like, we are fans of positive thinking, which is all the Law of Attraction really is.  It is praying.  So many of the things I prayed for came to me with time.  I prayed to find a man like Ted.  I prayed for Jake, my dog, to come into my life.  I prayed that my hard work at my job would be recognized.  I prayed for us to be able to buy a house.  Most of all though, I prayed for a happy and healthy family.  I prayed extra hard on Max, that his life would be blessed with all things delightful.  Ted made a beautiful "dream board" with photos of Max and our wedding, and beautiful landscapes and fun activities.  These are some of the things that I know he was visualizing for our future. Whether it was G-d, or the Law of Attraction, or The Secret, or I don't know what- someone or something got the signals mixed up somehow and the thing that was most important to us got left behind.  Now that Max is gone,  I wonder if it is silly to even bother praying for the important things we want for our future.  Is anybody even listening?  Does anyone really care?  The Laws of the Universe took the life of a little baby boy.  Shitty laws.  I think for a while I will just believe whatever I choose to believe.  Whatever makes me feel like I can get a little closer to Max - especially if it means that he is right next to me, hovering above my shoulder and thinking about bath time.

1 comment

Lindsey Arent Schank said...

Abby, I've been reading your blog religiously and I can't tell you how sad I am for you and your family. I also want you to know how much I admire you. Reading your blog makes me hold tighter than usual to all that is important and makes me feel like one cannot take a single second for granted. You are an incredible writer, especially in the midst of all this pain and my husband and I tear up with the knowledge of your pain each night as I read your blog out loud to him. Thank you for sharing all of this, and I know you will come through this with new hope and even more love to give some very lucky children.