And I usually say, "they're doing okay."
And they are. Mostly.
It seems that the sadness comes out at bedtime, during these conversations when Solly (in particular) is trying to keep himself awake by talking to me.
Yesterday....(and similarly so many other days)
Solly, plaintively and decisively: I want Sammy to come back. I know he's in my heart. But I don't want him in my heart. I just want him to come back.
If it wasn't so heartbreakingly sad, it would make me laugh just a little bit at his impatience with us.
And then today....
Solly: I'm sad. I miss Sammy.
Yael: We saw the first star and we said a wish.
Me: What did you wish for?
Yael: Solly wished that Sammy would come back. I wished that he never died.
Oh, yes.
Me too.
We move through each day, mostly "normal."
But in the quiet moments...in the stillness of the night or in the pauses between things...
I know that Sam is always on my mind.
And while it tears my heart into a million pieces to know how desperately sad my children are at his absence, I am also glad to know that they can talk about him, that they can tell me how they feel, that they have each other to lean on, even at their very young ages. I've always said that each of my children is a gift to the other ones (even if they don't always see it that way)...I hope it is always so for them.
P.S. It's not that David doesn't have his own moments. But he's old enough that I feel like he can speak for himself...and maybe even that I shouldn't speak for him in this public place.
P.P.S. Where we were a year ago..."Scared doesn't even begin to describe the way that I'm feeling now."
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| These two spend a lot of time together now. |
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| David and Yael |
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| David and Sam doing trampoline in December 2013 - remission |
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| Sam teaching Yael piano....so many pics of these two together. Now I take pics of Solly and Yael, but before they were all of this pair...we called them the "littles" and then after Solly was born they were the "middles." |
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| These three were a team... |
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| Solly and Sammy |
Solly and Yael - oh how you speak the truth.
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The fact that your kids can articulate their sorrow -- and that you can hear it, and allow them to speak it -- speaks volumes to me about the kind of awesome ima that you are.
ReplyDeleteAlso, your children are beautiful. I know I say this all the time, but every time you post photos I am awestruck again by their smiles and their neshamot.
Solly's impatience made me laugh. As the mother of a four year old, I recognize that impatience so well! <3
Because my two youngest are similar in age to your two youngest, each time they ask me hard questions about dying, I'm constantly reminded of how much harder it must be for you to explain to your kiddos. It seems a blessing that you do all have each other, to keep the conversations and questions flowing, amidst all that you're feeling.
ReplyDeleteDreaming of Sammy. Never enough. The beautiful pictures help. Thank you.
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