My Journal of Heartache...and Hope

Our son Max was born on May 4, 2011. Life was busy, happy, and perfect for 37 days. Then, it wasn't.
A look back at our life before Max, with Max, and what comes after...

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

July 25, 2011--Trinkets


Since Max died, I've received all sorts of really meaningful, thoughtful "trinkets." The word "trinket" makes them sound like tiny, worthless objects, but they are anything but worthless.  I feel a little bit like a charm collector, but I love that.  Anyone who has been in my classroom knows that I collect random objects.  I have posters of dinosaurs, horses with wings, and Dr. Seuss sayings.  I have a "tree of inspiration" that has motivational quotes, pictures of Betty White, and random notes from students hanging from it.  I have pictures of Mr. Baranowski hidden throughout my room, and I spent three days last year hollowing out a dictionary and filling it with candy.  I can't reveal any more about these last two items because they are surprises that are meant to be discovered throughout the school year by my students. My classroom is a reflection of me--quirky, surprising, and sentimental.  So, these "charms" that I have received are perfect for me.  They are unique, personalized, and most importantly, they have meaning.  They remind me of Max, and I'll treasure them for the rest of my life.  I'll leave them to Ethan and his future siblings when I die, and I'll make sure that they know just how meaningful these things are to me.  I appreciate having things around that make me remember Max, and so I thank everyone who has contributed to my collection of charms.  I'm going to share a few of these things now...
       The first "charm" that I received was from a very thoughtful co-worker, Shelley.  She has actually given me a few, but I think you'll understand why this one is my favorite.  Shelley mailed me a handkerchief.  I received it the day of the visitation.  I was actually getting in the car to leave when I decided to run down and check the mail first.  I opened the package from her on the way to the funeral home.  It's a good thing there was something to catch my tears inside of it.  I used that handkerchief to soak up my tears at the visitation and funeral.  And then I put it in Max's box.  (Max's box contains his ashes and a few other things that I'll keep to myself.)  I didn't wash it, and I never will.  I will also never use it again.  Those tears were only for Max, and so they will stay with him forever.  
I also received a prayer shawl from a co-worker named Nancy.  No one who knows Nancy will be surprised by that.  Not only is she incredibly thoughtful and kind-hearted, but the woman knits whenever she has two free hands.  She even knits at faculty meetings.  I love it.  I can't wait to see her knitting in a few weeks when we go back to work.  The prayer shawl is just like Nancy--comforting, gentle, and warm.  What I really love about it is that Nancy also donated a prayer shawl to a hospice organization in Max's name. Nancy never told me, but I got a card from the director of the hospice. It was such a nice card.  It said, "Just as we wrap the shawl around a dying patient's shoulders in comfort, we send our thoughts and comfort to you and your family."  It's nice to know that Max might be of some comfort to someone who is about to join him.


I've also received a few pieces of jewelry that I've worn nearly every day. I actually damaged one because I refused to take it off.  I guess that gives it character???  The first one I received was from a neighbor I had never met. I've mentioned her before, but a quick recap--her name is Carol.  She has three sons and two cats that Ethan adores.  We call them "our creek cats" because we see them all the time at the creek behind our house.  Carol lost her husband two years ago.  She started leaving me little cards, notes, and gifts the day that Max died.  When we returned home from the visitation, there was an envelope inside our storm door.  It contained a bracelet and note from Carol.  The note said that she had been praying for us during the entire visitation, and the bracelet had little butterflies and dragonflies on it.  I put it on right away and didn't take it off for a few weeks.  I slept with it on and took showers wearing it.  The latter was not a good idea.  I kept thinking about taking it off to take showers, but I just couldn't.  So I didn't.  Now it's looking a little weathered, but I'm feeling a little weathered, so I guess it's appropriate.  I'll never see another butterfly or dragonfly without thinking of Max.  I'm thankful for that.
       I also received a necklace from a student.  It's beautiful and has such a touching story behind it.  This student, Briana, lost two people she was close with.  She received a necklace shortly afterward, and she felt like the necklace provided her with a lot of comfort and some sort of tangible object to remember these people by.  When she heard about Max, she called her great uncle in Jerusalem and asked him to pick one up for me.  Briana explained a little bit about the necklace's history, but I could be making some of this up. I tend to do that.  The necklaces are handmade in Jerusalem, and they have a unique design that closely resembles the Arabic symbol for "faith."  I put the necklace on that night and have worn it nearly every day since receiving it. I do, however, take this one off to sleep and shower.  I'd like to think that I learn from my mistakes.  About a week ago, I actually got cut off by a car while I was driving.  My first instinct was to honk, but I noticed a sticker on the car's back window.  It was the same symbol that is on my necklace. Instead of honking, I smiled.  That's what we call "pulling a Max." 
       Another necklace that I got came as a complete surprise.  I received a package from Canada as we were preparing to leave for a BBQ hosted and attended by other parents of babies who have died of SIDS.  I had no idea what was in the package, but the customs paperwork and intense cellophane wrap job really sparked my curiosity.  After a few frantic attempts at unwrapping the secure package, I decided to just cut it open.  I don't know why I insist on trying to open every package I receive by hand and without the assistance of scissors.  Inside the package was a small box that contained a beautiful heart-shaped charm.  On one side is a set of tiny footprints; on the other side is Max's name.  Attached to the charm is an emerald stone, Max's birthstone.  The charm came from a friend, Kristine.  I cried. I just can't believe how thoughtful people are.  Kristine and her husband are the kind of people who are fun to be around, no matter what you're doing.  You might think that they're all fun and games on the surface, but a deeply serious and caring side of them exists and is pretty accessible.  They are some of the best people I know.  A poem also came with the necklace.  It is absolutely perfect.

Tiny Footprints on a Mother's Heart
When a baby arrives,
be it for a day, a month, a year or more,
or perhaps only
a sweet flickering moment
the fragile spark of the tender soul,
the secret swell of new pregnancy
the goldfish flutter known to only you-
you are unmistakeningly changed...
the tiny footprints left
behind on your heart
bespeak your name as Mother.

Another very thoughtful gift that we received was a set of wind chimes. These came from our friends, Abby and Jason.  They too are parents, and Abby has a close friend who experienced the loss of a baby recently.  She wrote the most beautiful, sincere letter that I have received.  I bawled while I read it--tears of sadness and loss, but also ones of hope and happiness.  In the letter she wrote that she and Jason had thought long and hard about what they could send to us.  She read on this website that I hated being inside and spent a lot of time on my back deck, hence the wind chimes.  What is so special about them is that, first of all, they are not the annoying kind of wind chimes that everyone's grandma seems to own.  They sound soft and unintrusive, not violent and high-pitched.  They also have a tribute to Max on them.  I guess you would call this a double-sided pendant?  I'm no wind chime expert, but that's what I'll call it.  The pendant has Max's name, birth date, and death date on it, but it also has a special message:  "Gone to play with the angels" etched on it.  I still can't believe how perfect this gift was.  I don't think I have ever been so thoughtful in my life.  Every time I hear them (which isn't very often lately--go away gross, unmoving air!), I'll think of Max. Thanks for that, Abby and Jason!
We've received lots of other "charms" too--figurines, bird statues (these have a special meaning that I'll share later.  Thanks, Lori!), plants (all of our landscaping in the front, actually!), and pictures.  I'm just losing steam right now, so I've got to wrap this up.  Just know that each of these "charms" is really a treasure to us.  We'll look at them for years and remember the kindness of others and the love that we all have for Max.  Of course, I will think about Max every day for the rest of my life, but there is something very comforting about seeing an unexpected or forgotten tangible reminder of him.  I'll collect these charms gladly, and I'll sprinkle them throughout my life, just like I do in my classroom, to find later as surprises.

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