Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Away.....In a Manger.

I don't cry. I don't wallow. I don't remember the date he was due. I mean, what is a due date anyways, i have never gone into labor and delivered a baby ON a due date.. . it is simply a number. I don't count days.  I DO send love every time he crosses my mind and I squeeze my babies here on Earth. Other than that I do not actively mourn Beckett. It has been 3 years.

Even after 3 years, the day is heavy. Just heavy. It is as if my body remembers that moment, holding my sweet baby in my hand. My entire body hunching over the sweet baby that fit in the palm of my hand. I know this is graphic. But my body, my heart still holds Beckett in my hand on this day every year. That is my reality.

Grief and loss...well these beasts are tough for me. Especially with Beckett and Lazarus. The loss of a child that I so desperately want to hold and tickle and nurture affects every facet of my day. I struggle to picture Beckett in heaven, which for me is an integral part of letting go. I struggle to picture him at all. I can remember counting his ten perfect fingers and toes. Stroking his minuscule body, but I cannot hear his laughter, remember his squishy
scent or picture his smile. How hard it is to grieve without that. How devastating it must be to grieve once you HAVE all of that in your heart and mind.

I know Christmas is over, but is it ever REALLY over? I like to stretch the Christmas holiday out as long as I can without appearing too nutty. So Christmas is slowly disappearing from my living room. One knick- knack at a time.

As I was putting away my Kenyan banana leaf Nativity set, I dropped baby Jesus. GASP! Major party foul!   I instructed my boys that dropping baby Jesus was an enormous no-no. They both looked at me like "Duh! No one drops baby Jesus but you, Mom." I thought eye rolls didn't appear until teen years. . ..I was wrong.

To further drive this point home (I am not sure why I went on this tangent, but I did.) I demonstrated how to be ever so gentle with my porcelain Nativity Set. You, know... The one I keep up high and out of reach. They "oohed" over the angel as they stroked her wings. They held Mary so gently.

And then Eli asked to hold Baby Jesus. I didn't hesitate, putting him in the palm of Eli's hand.

And it hit me.

My baby Jesus fits in the palm of my hand just as Beckett did.

I felt my body hunch in that familiar way, wanting to hold HIM with every inch of me. To protect and love. I could easily count His precious fingers and toes. I was suspended in my heartbreaking moment of loss.

What a gift. To have such a poignant reminder that when I yearn to hold Beckett, I CAN hold Jesus. In my heart and in the palm of my hand.

I am not sure that Nativity is coming down any time soon. NUTTY? not. care.

Merry Christmas to all my loves!