Kind of a big deal...
To the outsider, to someone who simply doesn't "get it" - it may seem like I'm constantly doing things to honor the son that I had to bury. Which doesn't necessarily sound like a bad thing, except that I've been accused of "celebrating death more than life," of doing more for a son who is no longer here than for the two children I am blessed to still have with me.
I know I shouldn't care. I know I don't need to defend myself. But, here goes. Explanation.
Out of the 365 days a year, there are a few significant dates when it comes to Gabriel. Most are sad, but one is a celebration - the day of his "angelversary," meaning the day he took his first and last breath - August 21st. On this day, we welcome anyone to join us at his grave site to remember him. Each year, we've been surrounded by lots of friends, and a few family members. And every year I notice who is NOT there more than I notice who is.
Another Gabriel date that I always remember is April 29th - D Day. The day we got his fatal diagnosis. I don't do anything to memorialize this date - it's just a sad day. Looking at pictures, remembering those raw feelings. It's not an event I write in on the calendar, I don't have to.
And, finally, there is the date that the NATION remembers him. October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, ever since 1988, when President Reagan declared the entire month a time of remembrance. "When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses a partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there is no a word to describe them.”
This was the first year that I actually did something, besides light at candle at 7pm. And it was amazing. It was practically a magical night, to be honest. I was asked to tell Gabriel's story to a crowd of about 150 people. I was honored to look out and see so many people crying, visibly touched to hear about the decision to carry my pregnancy to term even after being urged to terminate, and about my son's short life on earth. After a few people spoke, we gathered in a clear field, and one by one, we released lanterns into the sky. Joel was so excited, yelling "Fly to Gabe!"
These events are very important to our family. We are not going to pretend that Gabriel never existed, that his life was not full of divine purpose. I know a lot of you do understand, and I appreciate you listening to this vent. Some of you have been in my shoes, and others of you just have the ability to be empathetic. So, to you all - I thank you for your unending love, support, and compassion. And to the rest of you - Just try. Try to put yourself in my shoes. A mother who felt her son move before finding out that he wasn't going to make it. A mother who had to make funeral arrangements while still pregnant. A family who now has a real understanding of how short life is. A family who is better able to share Jesus with others. See? It was all worth it! And we will be with him again! We have so much to be thankful for, so much to look forward to...
I know I shouldn't care. I know I don't need to defend myself. But, here goes. Explanation.
Out of the 365 days a year, there are a few significant dates when it comes to Gabriel. Most are sad, but one is a celebration - the day of his "angelversary," meaning the day he took his first and last breath - August 21st. On this day, we welcome anyone to join us at his grave site to remember him. Each year, we've been surrounded by lots of friends, and a few family members. And every year I notice who is NOT there more than I notice who is.
Another Gabriel date that I always remember is April 29th - D Day. The day we got his fatal diagnosis. I don't do anything to memorialize this date - it's just a sad day. Looking at pictures, remembering those raw feelings. It's not an event I write in on the calendar, I don't have to.
And, finally, there is the date that the NATION remembers him. October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, ever since 1988, when President Reagan declared the entire month a time of remembrance. "When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses a partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there is no a word to describe them.”
This was the first year that I actually did something, besides light at candle at 7pm. And it was amazing. It was practically a magical night, to be honest. I was asked to tell Gabriel's story to a crowd of about 150 people. I was honored to look out and see so many people crying, visibly touched to hear about the decision to carry my pregnancy to term even after being urged to terminate, and about my son's short life on earth. After a few people spoke, we gathered in a clear field, and one by one, we released lanterns into the sky. Joel was so excited, yelling "Fly to Gabe!"
These events are very important to our family. We are not going to pretend that Gabriel never existed, that his life was not full of divine purpose. I know a lot of you do understand, and I appreciate you listening to this vent. Some of you have been in my shoes, and others of you just have the ability to be empathetic. So, to you all - I thank you for your unending love, support, and compassion. And to the rest of you - Just try. Try to put yourself in my shoes. A mother who felt her son move before finding out that he wasn't going to make it. A mother who had to make funeral arrangements while still pregnant. A family who now has a real understanding of how short life is. A family who is better able to share Jesus with others. See? It was all worth it! And we will be with him again! We have so much to be thankful for, so much to look forward to...
:) :) :)
ReplyDeleteI was there that night(I'm a friend of Stephanie Nalley's). And you sharing Gabe's story was so beautiful- I was one of the people crying with you. I love that you and Steph remember your sons!
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