Sharing Special Memories as a Family

Thursday night, I got home from work dreading the evening ahead. I wasn't dreading seeing my boys. I was dreading the homework assigned Alex had for his grief class. His assignment was to bring an item to share with everyone at the conclusion of the last session that reminded them of their special loved one that died. And I knew since I had worked late the prior 2 nights that my husband would want to get out of the house to recharge.

That left with the challenging task of digging out the box with Andrew's things that I had not been able or willing to look at since July when they were packed away. A box I thought I wouldn't open for years. It held almost everything connected to Andrew including all the clothes he wore, the pacifiers, the blankies and so forth.

I called a few friends to see if they could come over to help me do this. One already had a prior commitment and the other I couldn't reach. Probably a busy night at her home with her kids. So with trepidation and reluctance, I pulled up my internal bootstraps and went to find Alex.

"Alex, do you want to find a special memory item of Andrew to share at grief class tomorrow? I have a whole box downstairs of Andrew's things if you would like to go through it with me."

He got all excited. At least someone was excited about this. And he hopped down the stairs and I forced my feet to move one after the other to follow after him. When I got into the basement, I approached the door to our storage closet and breathed in deeply. And letting out a huge sigh, I opened the door and flicked on the light. \

Internally I prayed for strength as I walked down the closet to the back corner and flicked on that light. Alex shortly peeked in and tip toed into the space behind me. We moved the boxes from on top of the bin and I turned around and got down to Alex's level.

"Now Alex, I want to tell you that mommy may cry when she opens this box."

I could feel him tense up.

"But it's okay. Alright? I miss Andrew a lot so it's very normal for me to cry when I see his things. And it's okay because I won't keep on crying. After a little bit I'll stop and it will be fine. Okay?"

His eyes were a bit big and showed me his uncertainty. I just looked into them with understanding and smiled. Then I turned around and pulled the top off of the bin seeing all kinds of clothes my little one had worn. Things that no one else would probably wear. I dropped my eyes followed by my head and moved out of the way.

"Go ahead sweetheart. See if there is something special in there that reminds you of Andrew."

I found it interesting how easily he looked through the things. Moving onesies and pajamas out of the way to find toys, stuffed animals and so forth that were Andrew's alone. Then he pulled something out and I was fascinated at his choice. Although I couldn't understand it. But then again I'd bring one of his pee caps and others would think that was pretty darn strange as a special memory item. How can a mom think the memory of her son peeing on her is so special? But is.

And I remember putting up an internal wall so as not to get too lost in the very personal items I had once put on Andrew. I buffered myself from the memories attached to certain special items like his little winter suit we brought him home in from the hospital.

He laid on the hospital bed so bundled up he looked up at me with this look like, "mom . . . help, I'm trapped." He looked so adorable I had to chuckle and rush over to him, pick him up and lavish him with kisses as I told him how cute he looked. And then commented to myself that I might have overdone it a bit. It was winter. An extremely cold January night. He was a preemie and even more prone to difficulties in regulating his temperature. I wanted to make sure he didn't freeze.

When I saw his soaked hair when I undid his suit after getting home, I knew that I had been overly concerned about him staying warm. Oh well. He lived. And still looked so adorable. Better than him freezing to death.

A shake of the head. Back to reality, k. And the rest of the evening I ran around doing household chores to keep from feeling anything. I didn't want to dwell on the darling items that were his. The memories of his smile and the loving looks he gave me..........................................and........................

So Friday, I pick up the 2 boys that weren't attending class to join in on the special sharing time the kids were having. Alex did so well. His special memory of Andrew that he shared with everyone was that he died. That caught in my throat. But the facilitator and leader of the program quickly asked him if he remembered anything from before Andrew dying. And Alex shared that he slept a lot.That got chuckles all the way around. But it was accurate. He did sleep a lot. Then the class ended with each child showing an item that represented something that reminded them of their lost loved one. And Alex brought what he had found in the Andrew bin. A little stuffed lion Andrew was given when he was in NICU. One of many donations we received to make his first Christmas special by other families who had had little ones in the same NICU over Christmas. Their thoughtful way to brighten a less than ideal situation and make it a bit special.

Then we went outside and each child had a balloon to release in memory of their special loved one. We all counted down from 10 and the kids let their balloons go. One for each color in the rainbow. Then we all said, "I love you" and the name of our loved one. Alex jumped in excitement as he released his balloon and yelled his sentiment to Andrew. There was the sound of other voices saying the same thing with a jumble at the end due to all the different names of the ones that had gone on before us.

"I love you Andrew." I said with a faltering voice that evoked a pang in my heart and a reaction of tears in my eyes. It felt like I was letting go of him all over again. It was odd.

Andrew is gone.

The balloon flew higher in the sky, getting smaller and smaller and it was like Andrew. Flying away on the wings of the wind being carried to places far away.

And then we drove home.................................
...................................................................................................with a detour through McDonald's.