Three birds

I thought I posted this a while back, but when I went to link it to the Pablo post, I realized that I had written this in another space. This conversation took place via email when a friend was helping me to think through what had happened to my dear son, and helping me to fight back against yet another set of horrid lies cast my way. (And we were successful. Praise God!) After we wrote back and forth for a while, recalling, discussing, analyzing his experiences, we both took a break.

Then she sent me this email:
"I just went outside for a moment and got caught in a scene of three birds flying in front of a tree, which was rustling in the wind. For a minute there, it was Sekai flying and laughing, and everything was good. I know I never met him. But I feel very close to him right now. It's very strange."

To which I responded:
"We released three birds at his grave-side service. The lady released three doves: 1 representing Christ's ascent, one representing Sekai gone off to heaven, and one representing the rest of us who believe following when our time comes. The first dove and the third dove flapped their wings elegantly and floated away. The second one, the one representing Sekai, was beating his wings so hard and so fast, I could actually hear them, and I had to smile."

"There are signs everywhere, reminders everywhere, if we only believe. Thank you, God, for reminders and inspirations...

(I also wrote, "...and for people willing to hear and see and believe and willing to act. Thank you, Lord, for encircling me with true friends who have true compassion!" But more on that later.) (And no, it is not lost on me that Bob Marley sang, in his song "Three Little Birds", "don't worry, about a thing, 'cause every little thing, gonna be all right.")

Here at the beach, the seagulls have been hanging around, walking on the banister, gliding on the breeze in perfect alignment with the view through the screen door. And then there is Dexter, the hummingbird who visits the potted flowers on our deck at home. Get it, Deck-sitter->Deck-s'ter->Dexter? I can hear Sekai now, "Mom, you need some new material."

Pablo

I awakened this morning and slowly began my day. It is dark and rainy here and the wind is crashing heavily in to the surf. A good day for staying in and writing. Suddenly, I am almost knocked over by a flashflood of memories. I recall that Sekai had complained of the same thing. Sudden memories, washing over him, tossing him in the surf, throwing him on to the compacted sand, leaving him there roasting in the sun with his dried-up thoughts, and then picking him up and starting all over again. I didn't want to be caught in this tumbling, so I listened to and watched each thought, seeking the wisdom hiding there. And then the tears burst forth through the dam, dragging with them the cries that were not as stifled as I had thought. Then I heard it welling up, "Mommy, I didn't mean to hurt you." Sekai didn't call me mommy, but it would be like him to do that now, just to make me stop and think and question. Sarcasm. Isn't that the purpose of wit, to make a point, then cause the other to question it, and be lead to confirm the initial point? So I calmed myself with this thought, and then questioned why in fact I was having these thoughts right now. Ahh, it is the 10th. Again. At this time on this date three months ago, my son was still alive.

I decide to go outside, to scream his name at the wind and the waves, to share this cry, this prayer, that I carry in my spirit in my heart in my body in my mind in my mouth all day every day, and demand that the water and the air join in. The sea greets me angrily. At first I pause. Then I recall that I have survived laying down my son, and I tell the sea and the rain and the wind that I am not afraid. I yell at them: you remember Sekai. Even as I hear my own voice, I am not sure if it is a demand or an accusation. They continue to stir. I yell at God, "if you can stir all this, why couldn't you stir up help for my boy!?" I hear a response, feel a peace, a reminder that it wasn't meant to be. Even Jesus came for only an appointed time. No, I will not be comforted just yet. I start to scream, "I am angry at you". I am not sure if the words actually come out of my mouth because I have to stop and examine this. Am I angry at God? And if so, why, exactly? I decide that I am angry that things had to go this way, that my sweet potato is not here, that God didn't make it different, that my son was allowed to suffer.... I scream, "But I loved him so much, I tried to love him so much, he was such a beautiful baby, I did my very best, and he was so hard to love, so hard to care for, he didn't want my help, he didn't want to get better, and I tried to help him..." And then it crashes on the sand and bursts into tiny pieces, joining the foam at my feet. He is not suffering anymore. Appointed time. Purpose. The peace returns.

I turn to leave, having said my piece/peace, and been comforted in return. Then I stop, realizing I haven't actually screamed his name as I said I would. I turn back towards the water, I even turn to face the rain and wind straight on rather than having them at my back, then turn back to the waves and bellow "SEKAI!!!" Ok, I can go now. I take a few steps, then I find it. A tiny blue toy sticking up out of the sand. Ok, Sekai liked blue and was a big fan of toys (though he wasn't allowed to keep his when he was away). What is it? Oh, a bubble wand. I like bubbles. But it is a little kid's toy, so why...ahh. It is a bird! Again, with the birds. (More on this later.) Later, telling the story to a friend, I notice that the penguin is named Pablo, and I wonder if he is a Backyardigan. I just looked him up. He is indeed a penguin, so he is indeed a bird. Yay. He is also a Backyardigan...something little kids watch, so why...then I read on this site http://wrchildrensprogramming/pbworks.com/The-Backyardigans that Pablo "usually makes mistakes and is very self conscious at times." Check, and mate.

I know, Sekai, I know. I love you, too.

Signs of hope

In July and August, I did some traveling. I went to see dear friends who I knew would offer comfort and a safe space for me. I went in search of evidence of God, beauty, love, signs of hope.

These shells on Sanibel Island offer a subtle study in what you miss if you fail to look at something closely, and what you miss if you fail to look at the big picture. I was standing in the same place when I took these two pictures. I simply looked up, then down. And I wondered how things might have been different if the same had been done for my son.



There were, of course, palm trees in Florida (pictured: Bunche Beach) and in California (pictured: Venice Beach). I absolutely adore palm trees, not just for their beauty, but also for their spiritual symbolism.



Then there was this tree root at Bon Secours. The gimel reached out at me as I walked through the woods, and I was immediately reminded that there is a similar mark on my left wrist which I first noticed around the age of 7. The symbolism is not lost on me: I looked it up a while ago, and learned that the gimel refers to one who chases after those in need. Indeed, I chased after my son...in so many ways.



I still want to identify the artist(s) who created this piece which was on display at The Lab in Costa Mesa. I am not sure what the artists was commenting on, but needless to say, the sentiments grabbed at my heart. Look closely at the words.



And as with the shells that signified the importance of both looking closely and also looking at the big picture, I stepped back to take a picture of the entire piece and found what I was looking for:

And...scene

Setting: Sekai's hospital room, week one or two, after he removed his feeding tube after stating, "I don't want you guys giving me any nourishment."
Commercial for an online dating service is airing in the background.
Sekai, smirking, of course :"Mom, have you ever thought of going on [unnamed online dating service]."
Me, looking him at him sideways, seeking out his angle:"Um. No. Why would I? What are you trying to say?'
Sekai:"Well, you might want to. Because you're single..."
Me:"Are you making a comment about me being a single mom?" (Unfortunately, I didn't understand that Sekai's comments about me being single and taking care of him were meant as an accolade, that I was taking care of him, doing so much for him as a single person when his foster parents were a married couple and...)
Sekai:"No. Not like that. It's just...then you wouldn't be alone. If you went on there and met someone."
Me:"I'm not alone. I have you."
Sekai:"You should go on there...so you won't be alone."
Sigh.