Lullaby

I really miss holding Jonah each night and singing to him.  I don't have the best voice.  My brother will tell you that I often change key mid song.  When the notes get too high, especially with children's songs, I just stop singing, then resume when it comes back to an acceptable range.  I have a horrible memory for lyrics, and often repeat myself.  Most would not describe my singing as beautiful, but it always felt beautiful when I sang to Jonah. 

I sang to him even before he had his hearing aid.  When he was a newborn and crying I would hold his soft cheek against mine and sing "Baby Beluga," hoping the sound would travel through our connected bodies to his perfect inner ear.  It always soothed him. 

At night he would drink his bottle and play with my hair while I sang to him.  I sang him the same songs over and over: You are My Sunshine, Baby Beluga, I am a Child of God, I Know My Savior Loves Me, and He Sent His Son.  I often thought I should sing him something new, but I could never think of anything else to sing.  In all my years of teaching, not to mention being raised by a preschool teacher, it surprised me that I could not think of any other songs.  So these were our lullabies. 

In the hospital, as I held his body, I sang him these songs again.  My singing was stifled by tears and anguish, but I still sang to him.  It was beautiful.  The lyrics found new meaning to me as I sang... 

You are My Sunshine
You Are My Sunshine
My only sunshine.
You make me happy
When skies are grey.
You'll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away


I am a Child of God
I am a child of God,
And he has sent me here,
Has given me an earthly home
With parents kind and dear.
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday

I Know My Savior Loves Me
I know He lives!
I will follow faithfully.
My heart I give to Him.
I know that my Savior loves me.

I will never forget the sacred sweetness of singing to my baby Jonah one last time.  Lately I have been thinking about Christmas and one of these beautiful lullabies is floating around my heart and mind, He Sent His Son.  Those four words are so significant to me this Christmas.  John 3:16 reminds us, 

For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. 

This is an amazing scripture.  The phrase that He gave His only begotten Son pierces my heart, as I think about losing my only son.  I am grateful for the promises of Christmas.  I am grateful for the hope of everlasting life.  I am grateful He sent His son.

At the end of the song it says...

What does the Father ask of us?
What do the scriptures say?
Have faith, have hope, live like his Son,
Help others on their way.

What does he ask?
Live like his Son.

I am trying this Christmas season to have faith, to have hope, to live like His Son, and to help others on their way.  So far it has been a season filled with simplicity, love, and beauty.  I hope you can find peace in this simple lullaby, and have a meaningful and merry Christmas! 

Silence

As Jordan and I walked away from the hospital the day Jonah died I remember being afraid.  I had just experienced my greatest fear and yet I was hesitant to go home.  I didn't know how it would feel to be in my own house, to be with Jordan, to be without Jonah.  I wondered if it would be painful to be surrounded by his things. I imagined a suffocating silence, a constant reminder that he was gone.  It was horrifying to separate our bodies from Jonah's and step into this new uncharted territory.  

As soon as we got home I gathered up Jonah's blankets and his favorite monkey. His smell became like a drug to me.  I crawled into bed, and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon.  Afternoon faded into  night.  All I could do was cry.  No. Wail.  My sobbing left no room for the silence I feared. 

For the next week we were surrounded by friends and family.  We talked, we cried, we listened, we remembered.  As soon as one person would leave, a new person arrived.  It was truly a blessing and made those first difficult days go by more quickly.  But eventually everyone returned to their own lives.  Back to work, to school, and to families.  I soon found myself surrounded by the silence of my own home, the experience that terrified me.  Yet when all my distraction disappeared I discovered the silence was so beautiful.

In the silence my mind wandered to memories and moments I had forgotten.  I pondered my purpose.  My thoughts found clarity.  I read.  My tears flowed.  In the silence I tried to ask God real questions and seek answers. 

Earlier in my life I think I would have filled the silence with music, television, or conversation.  I was one of those college students who would say "I study better with the T.V. on."  Definitely a lie I told myself.  Silence seemed like the poster child of a uninteresting life.  Things are different now.  I want to guard my silent moments and keep them for myself.  To me it is peace. 

Each morning I wander into Jonah's room and open the blinds.  I kneel in his room and ask God for strength.  I ask for opportunities to feel Jonah near me.  I ask for revelation.  I stay in there in the silence until I feel ready for the day.  I don't think I will receive these things, or feel his lightness upon me, if I busy myself in distraction and noise.

Of course I would trade these peaceful moments to hear Jonah's little voice, or his giggle. I would love to hear the repetitive music from his favorite videos.  I wish I was dancing with him in our living room right now instead of typing this.  I long to hear him say "Momma" one more time.  But I know those things will not be part of my life today. 

I know that some silence and stillness are required of me now.  Not all the time.  There is time for laughing and conversation and music and TV.  We are not living like monks, although I'm beginning to understand them.  I want to be ready for inspiration.  I want to make room for silence in my day.  I am not afraid of it anymore.

 Jonah's first word.

The Weeping

A few days ago I was surfing the internet mindlessly, killing time. Jordan was out of town working and I was truly by myself for the first time since Jonah's death. I was looking for distraction and found it. I clicked on someone's Facebook link for The Sing Off, a show I haven't followed at all. Jordan and I don't even have a TV. Anyway, before I knew it I watched about 10 videos, and finally randomly clicked on this video without noticing the title. The song is called "If I Die Young" and includes these lyrics...


Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and Life ain't always what you think it ought to be,
no Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby


And this is how the weeping happens, triggered by the simplest phrase or song. A song I would have dismissed as sappy at any other time in my life. The reaction is sudden, it is unpredictable, and it is not pretty. The word weeping itself is far too delicate to describe the reality of the situation. The reality is convulsive, crumbling, and full of snot. It is physically painful. It makes my forehead hurt, and trying to hold it back hurts even more. I always feel better after this kind of crying, but I don't enjoy it...it is like touching a bruise, you want to feel just enough pain to remind you of the original wound, but at the same time know that you are healing.

Here are some other songs that trigger the weeping...

He'll Carry You by Hilary Weeks

Not Enough by Emmylou Harris

Godspeed (Sweet Dreams) by The Dixie Chicks

Consider the Lilies by The Mormon Tabernacle Choir