It’s late.
I want to sleep, but my restless mind won’t allow it. I keep checking on my children. I can’t stop thinking about a woman I’ve never met, all the way across the country. How yesterday her baby was sick.
And today, her baby is gone.
I can’t explain this feeling. I don’t want to be a spectator to this. I don’t want it to seem like I’m glomming onto a tragedy that doesn’t belong to me.
But I am a mother. So there it is.
After my father died, my niece told her mother that he came to her, spoke to her, at night-time. She told her mother, my sister, that grandpa came and told her that he was walking on a green garden path. She told my sister that very shortly after he passed away.
Every night, I take the baby into his room and we sit in a soft, brown rocker. It is the only time of day he lets me hold him.
Some nights, I am eager for him to sleep. I want him to finish that bottle so I can lay him down in the crib. I want that hour or two that comes before slumber to sit and be quiet. I want my mothering for that day to be over.
Last night, I held him in my arms, hyper-aware of the weight of his body against mine. I rocked and rocked and turned my eyes to the blank ceiling, thinking about Heather, Mike and their beloved Maddie. I tried to push it away, just more noise from the Internet.
Something that happened to someone else. Another mother’s pain.
Tears came. I turned, as I do, to prayer.
Hail Mary, full of grace …
I said this prayer, over and over, at my father’s deathbed.
Last night, in the waning evening sunlight, I suddenly saw in my mind’s eye a garden. A garden full of children, my father standing among them. He was smiling, holding out his arms to them. My father only got to know one of his grandchildren, and if I know him, he seeks out the littlest ones in the after-world, lifting them high and telling them silly jokes. Teasing them, making his pirate face as he chases them in and out of the flowers.
I asked my father to find Maddie. It wouldn’t be hard, with that megawatt smile. I asked him to hold her hand.
Daddy, you set me on this road. I wouldn’t even know her name without your hand gently guiding me to this place, here, in the middle of the night, weeping for a family separated too soon. So please, dad, help Maddie find her way on that winding, green garden path.
Heather, my mother-heart is broken for you.
***
Heather and Mike Spohr are now facing enormous costs for their beautiful child’s funeral—something no parent should ever have to do. Please, consider making a donation to ease the obscene burden they are facing.
{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
Not my loss, not our story, and yet there is an ache to shoulder some portion of the pain. Damn.
Amanda’s last blog post..Celestial Snapshots
What perfect imagery … it must be so.
whymommy’s last blog post..Little Bear meets Little Butterfly
You are not a spectator, your are an inspiration. (and there is no better prayer… this coming from a non-Catholic)
I, too, have been thinking of Mike and Heather non-stop – how one minute they are leading normal lives and the next, planning their beautiful daughter’s funeral. Life is still such a mystery to me – and at nearly 50, I realize I will never have the answers. I will hold my children and grandchildren closer, and love every minute that I have with them.
Yvonne’s last blog post..
My heart aches for them so badly. You’ve conveyed so much of what I feel but don’t know how to write myself. This is beautiful.
catnip’s last blog post..for Maddie
I also do not believe that we are hijacking a pain that isn’t ours. The blogging thing is weird and awesome and powerful that way. We really, truly grieve for Heather and Mike and Maddie.
This was a really lovely post. I also posted about my evening with my baby, and putting him down to sleep. Thinking of Maddie…
amy@milkbreathandmargariats’s last blog post..Word To Yo Momma
Wow, what a BEAUTIFUL post.
I too grieve for Maddie, though not ever knowing the family, Heather’s blog kept me connected to them as if I’d known them FOREVER.
Rest in Peace sweet baby girl.
Amazing Greis’s last blog post..In Memory of…
I admit that I have struggled with the same thing. Part of me thinks “You don’t even know these people? How dare you be sad?” but I can’t help the way I feel. My heart is broken for this family. I have cried for Maddie even though I have never held her or even seen her face to face. I don’t “know” this family in the traditional sense but I feel connected to them. They are in my thoughts and prayers right now.
Jen’s last blog post..Joseph saves the planet
this is so, so sad.
jen’s last blog post..disconnected
A friend of mine in LA blogged about Maddie, too, having just met her a few weeks ago. And, as a parent, you can’t not think of your own children when you hear such a heartbreaking story.
When PG woke up last night at 1am, I immediately went to her room. I would normally be irritated at interrupted sleep and give her time to settle herself down, but after reading everyone’s posts last night, I had to pick her up and hold her. Partly because she needed my comfort, but mostly because I needed hers, too.
Quigs78’s last blog post..Random Cuteness
such a beautiful thought friend. i truly can picture your dad playing with maddie and all the others that have gone too soon.
amanda’s last blog post..the lampshade and the bird
I just read your last post and then linked to their posts. Oh. My. God! What a tragedy. I am so sad. I kinda feel like a voyeur for looking at their pictures and reading their words but I hope they know that their story has inspired me to hold my kids a little tighter and be a little more patient because tomorrow is never promised.
My heart is broken for their family!!
Harley Quinn’s last blog post..My Little Girl Turns 3!
this is perfect. so beautiful. i’ll tell my dad to look, too. he likes baseball and guitar.
Ms. Changes Pants While Driving’s last blog post..little earthquake
Dear Ms C,
Maddie’s passing is very sad.
One of my friends grandson’s died Monday, he was 6 weeks old. The doctors had just started trying to figure out what his issues were. His mother is young, only 20, and she is unmarried. The father was a new boyfriend and they had stopped seeing each other by the time she found out she was pregnant. Her plan up until delivery was to give the baby up for adoption but the father’s mother convinced her to keep the baby. None if this makes a whole lot of difference. The only things that matter are that young parents, grandparents and family grieve the loss of their baby boy.
My heart is just aching for Heather and Mike.
I have read so many posts… so many outpourings of emotion for this family. All of them so meaningful. No post hit me like your’s though. It is truly beautiful… sad, heartbreaking, and beautiful.
Colleen – a madison mom’s last blog post..Grace in Small Things – 40
“I can’t explain this feeling. I don’t want to be a spectator to this. I don’t want it to seem like I’m glomming onto a tragedy that doesn’t belong to me.
But I am a mother. So there it is.”
I should have known the words I’ve been searching for would be right here on your blog.
marty’s last blog post..Reaching In