At the end of December, 1993, our first child, Erin, was born. We knew beforehand that she would be born with Down Syndrome, and so even before she arrived in our arms, we had already started to work through some of the grief that came along with that. For every parent who has a "special child", that grief comes from the loss of much of what you had hoped the child would be and could become. Erin's arrival changed our lives in many other ways, other things that we had to give up (willingly or unwillingly), that in turn compounded grief upon grief. At the same time, we wanted to remember that this life was a gift from God, and in the midst of processing the grief, we chose to celebrate, and invited others to celebrate with us the joy of being new parents. Indeed, over the past 14 years, it is the celebration of Erin's life and what she is that has eased the pain of what she is not. However, like a bad weed that can never be fully eradicated, that pain surfaces from time to time, threatening to further excoriate the wound.
This past week was just such a time for me. The international school that our younger two children attend closed off the academic year this past week. On the second last day of school, the middle school held a special event for all those who are "graduating" from Grade 8 and will be going into high school this fall. As I was leading Erin out of the grade 2 art class that she participates in, I saw all the grade 8 gals dressed in their best, make-up on, and prepared for the event. Proud parents were there taking pictures. It suddenly hit me - this would be the class Erin would be in! If she didn't have Down Syndrome, she would be dressed up and having her picture taken with the rest of her classmates. If she didn't have Down Syndrome, my wife and I would be there with the other parents of all the grade 8 students, laughing and celebrating with them in our children's accomplishments. If Erin didn't have Down Syndrome, she could be building the memories of partying with her friends at this special time. If Erin didn't have Down Syndrome......!
The grief lasted for a few days, and then subsided. Till today. I was looking at an album of a facebook friend from the school, and saw the pictures of the grade 8 class. The boys, the girls, and then the whole class together. The pictures were beautiful, but all I could see was that Erin wasn't in them. And so I go through one more cycle of grief.....
I am sincerely happy for all our friends who have children in the Morrison middle school graduating class this year. We celebrate with them in the accomplishments of their kids, and we hope and pray for the best for each of them. At the same time, I choose to once again, celebrate in Erin's life. It is a very different life, but it is also a life of joy, sometimes mixed with pain. As is every life. In the meantime, I ride out the alternating waves of grief and gratitude, knowing that in a special way, because of Erin, this will forever be a part of my life.
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3 comments:
A very moving and powerful post. Thank you for opening yourself up and sharing it.
Scott Grandi
Thanks for being so open Rod. It's funny, but recently I was looking through Rohan's baby album, and I got this flash from years ago, when Erin was newborn, and I was in London Drugs looking at baby albums and thinking that she wouldn't be on the same developmental cycle as other children. And this wave of loss hit me for you and Eileen in that moment.
I remember a number of conversations we had in those first months, the first few years. And yet that moment in London Drugs stays with me so strongly b/c I think something hit me in one big wave at that moment -- the enormity of the changes this would mean for you and Eileen. I remember looking through some of those baby books and just standing there crying for you and Eileen.
I know that when children lose someone or something very important or close to them, they grieve over the course of their lives, in developmental stages. The impact hits them differently at various stages. I think the same is true for parents of children with handicaps. Only it's the developmental stage for the parents that triggers the loss.
My heart is with you Rod. Erin is a fine young lady, you know that. But you also know a pain that not every parent will feel.
May you find a way to acknowledge this loss anew, and take the next step in the amazing journey that has been Erin.
love Sam
Rod, thanks for sharing your heart and for having the wisdom to know and understand your own response when such "waves" roll over you. I believe this is an important part of dealing with any grief, to recognize it as such - even years later. Over 25 years of my own experience since our Heather went to be with the Lord, I have known various such unexpected billows of emotions.
God, in his inscrutable wisdom, has given us such special and unique gifts as Erin and Heather for His own purposes, although we may not comprehend them all in this life.
Meanwhile, "Joy comes in the morning" and "we shall come home with shouts of joy" (Ps. 126) by the bountiful grace of God. Beryle and I are very grateful in the past three months to share the most special gift of a grandson, given to Heidi and Jeff. He is a source of great joy, not to replace another, but as evidence of God's great faithfulness.
John
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