Sitting in an overstuffed club chair with my feet up on the ottoman next to the open window, I had a view of the craggy oceans edge. We were staying on the second floor of a bed and breakfast in Victoria, British Columbia, June 2004, we were escaping the desert summer heat.
The TV was on, we were watching Larry King Live interview Lacy Peterson’s Mom. My heart broke for her and I could only imagine the pain she was experiencing. My son and daughter in law were expecting their first child, our first grandchild. In my lap was the pink chenille yarn I was using to crochet her first blanket. My grandmother had taught me to crochet when I was 10 and I looked forward to teaching my granddaughter.
My husband was lying on the bed relaxing when his cell phone rang. I laid the crocheting down, looked over to see if I could tell who had called. I saw a look of confusion start to settle in on his face and then abruptly he showed the phone at me and said “I can’t understand him, I think it’s Daniel.”
I took the phone from him. It was Dan but he was crying and talking and I too couldn’t understand his words, I thought I heard ‘no hands’, I was sure I’d heard ‘no forearms’.
I couldn’t breathe. I asked my son to sit for a minute and I’d call him right back. I had to gather my thoughts and tell Ron what I’d learned. We turned the TV off, it was 6:30.
It only took me a couple of minutes. I couldn’t leave my son there to suffer. When I called back Jennifer answered. I asked a few questions and listened to her tell me what she knew. Then she asked me, “What do we do now, Mom? How do we go on?” I didn’t know, I’d never imagined anything like this. I had no words of comfort, not for Jen having her first child, not for Dan, so worried about the love of his life and his unborn daughter, not for myself when my heart was breaking.
We were so far away and really there was nothing we could have done for them. I told her to go through the motions of minute to minute life. Sit together and hold hands, make dinner whether you eat it or not, call your small group and pray. I knew that prayer and faith would bring them comfort even though I don’t believe at all, I am supportive.
When there were no more words, we hung up.
Ron said to me, ‘What do we do now?’ I want to know why people think I have the answer? I told him we have dinner reservations, we go.’ ‘Really? You can eat?’, I didn’t know if I could eat or not but I was following my own advice. Put one foot in front of the other. Just carry on.
We held hands, drove to the restaurant, ordered dinner and a bottle of wine. We sat there together talking ,imagining, hoping it was a dream or a nightmare and trying to figure out, ‘what do I say?’ ‘What wisdom can I find in my heart? Neither of us could eat a bite but somehow we got through the entire bottle of wine we’d ordered. We apologized to the waiter, grabbed our coats and left the restaurant knowing that a tidal wave of grief was on its way.
We got home to the bed and breakfast, going through the motions of life, jams on, TV on, Larry King Live on for the second time that night and again, Lacy’s Mom picked up where we left her, it was 9:30. I sat in my chair but couldn’t pick up that pink chenille blanket to finish it, not for many years.
As I was trying to sleep I thought of Lacy’s mom and comparing the weight of grief, no way to be comforted. No turning back time, only facing it head on.
My husband and I spent the night crying, tossing, turning, hugging, holding hands, knowing Lacy’s mom was doing the same as well as our son and daughter in law as well were her parents.
I knew that we were facing a reality that none of us could have expected. I knew there were to be many more sleepless nights of sobbing and worry. My first thoughts were ‘was it too late to abort?’ I actually asked Jen about it and she said that no matter what that was not an option. Her faith was strong.
Ron turned to me in the morning and said, “Wow, that was a horrible night. I could never do that again.” I remember laughing to myself, knowing I’d already had so many before and would surely have to face many more nights of sobbing in my lifetime. It had just begun. She wasn’t even born yet.
This takes my breath away.
ReplyDelete