This blog is dedicated to my Maxie. Max was only 9 and a half months when he stopped breathing at daycare. We are devastated by the loss of our most beloved baby boy. Hopefully, this blog will give readers a sense of what a beautiful spirit he was and will help to keep his memory alive.
Flirting
Friday, April 19, 2013
Teddy went to visit Maxie recently when Gigi was in town. He was very upset to find a new grave, two over from where Maxie is, for another baby. I had kind of forgotten about that baby and then yesterday a big package arrived for Ted. I figured he had ordered something for our home or something for Mo. Instead, he opened it up and unwrapped a new metal pinwheel, not for Maxie's grave, but for the baby nearby. He didn't say much about it but I can tell there is a lot going on in his heart these days. Things are always hard for us without Max, but these past few weeks have been especially torturous. I'm sure it has a lot to do not only with the fear of Mo being almost nine months old, but with the fact that he reminds us A LOT of our last memories of Max. Max was SO incredibly cute at this age. We couldn't wait for him to get better and better as he got older - but he didn't get any older. I've been flashing back a lot to Maxie in the hospital, hooked up to machines and tubes. I have to seriously FORCE myself to think of something else.
Our housekeeper was here yesterday. The same housekeeper Maxie used to flirt with all of the time - he was especially flirtatious in the weeks leading up to his death. Yesterday, I watched Mo doing the exact same thing with her. It was so sweet but I nearly burst into tears. I can't believe Max is gone....and I know that sounds crazy almost two years later...but, if you have ever lost someone that suddenly, I am sure you understand. It is just completely unbelievable that someone THAT alive just stopped living in an instant.
I caught a little bit of Mo's flirting yesterday on my iphone. I wish I had caught Maxie doing the same thing but I never realized that I wouldn't have another opportunity. I try to capture everything Mo does. I'm running out of storage space. Anyway - I'll set the scene...I was sitting in front of Mo and our housekeeper was walking behind me, back and forth between the kitchen and our bedroom. Watch Mo watching her.....it's too cute!
I've never commented, but read every day! I'm so sorry about Maxie, and the feelings your having with Mo approaching the same age, I'm sure it's maddening! But seriously, how cute is that baby?!?! Don't you just want to eat his little face all the time??? I think about you often, and though we've never met, I love y'all, and hope that somewhere, someday, you'll both find some peace!
It brought tears to my eyes when you talked about Ted buying the pinwheel. My dad did similar things when my sister died, and there were times we would find special, anonymous trinkets or decorations on her grave from other families too. We still, 20+ years later, think of the other babies around her, and visit them when we go to visit her, as I'm sure their families also.
This kind of grief creates a special, unexpected community. You don't ever have to meet the parents or families of those who have lost little ones, to feel a close kinship and protection for them. When families reach out in love, and support (often anonymously, like a pinwheel on a grave that magically appears) I know from my own experience, and watching my parents, it is received so tenderly and with such profound gratitude. It is the mercy you offer to other families that most people don't know how to give. It touches my heart.
I am so sad that anyone understands the agony of loosing a child, but I'm also so very grateful for the beauty of human kindness and gentle compassion that is willingly offered to lift the souls of those of us left waiting here.
2 comments
Abby,
I've never commented, but read every day! I'm so sorry about Maxie, and the feelings your having with Mo approaching the same age, I'm sure it's maddening! But seriously, how cute is that baby?!?! Don't you just want to eat his little face all the time??? I think about you often, and though we've never met, I love y'all, and hope that somewhere, someday, you'll both find some peace!
Jennifer
He is just SO darling! What a sweet, perfect boy!
It brought tears to my eyes when you talked about Ted buying the pinwheel. My dad did similar things when my sister died, and there were times we would find special, anonymous trinkets or decorations on her grave from other families too. We still, 20+ years later, think of the other babies around her, and visit them when we go to visit her, as I'm sure their families also.
This kind of grief creates a special, unexpected community. You don't ever have to meet the parents or families of those who have lost little ones, to feel a close kinship and protection for them. When families reach out in love, and support (often anonymously, like a pinwheel on a grave that magically appears) I know from my own experience, and watching my parents, it is received so tenderly and with such profound gratitude. It is the mercy you offer to other families that most people don't know how to give. It touches my heart.
I am so sad that anyone understands the agony of loosing a child, but I'm also so very grateful for the beauty of human kindness and gentle compassion that is willingly offered to lift the souls of those of us left waiting here.
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