20091214

It never rains in Southern California

A Mother's Hands

Long Beach, December 2009
Or so they say.  But the dark grey sky over Long Beach turned into a giant, cold, shower stall Saturday morning, as I arrived at my destination.  Walking into the building, I saw people filing into a room at the end of the hall.  I signed the guest book, turned to follow the others.  She was at the door, hugging everyone as they entered.  And then it was my turn.

"I'm glad you made it."

"There is no way I would miss this.  I love you."

"I love you, too."

Long Day for Grandma
Long Beach, December 2009

Similar stops with her husband, sister, mother, in-laws, before taking a seat.  Her mother walked to the front, put a hand on the tiny creme-coloured box, not much larger than a shoe box, closed her eyes, and put her head down.  They say there is nothing more difficult than having to bury your own child.  In that moment, I could see that burying a grandchild is just as painful.  This particular grandchild never had the opportunity to breathe even the smoggy Southern California air.  And this particular grandmother came within a hair of losing one of her children at the same time.  In delivering her stillborn child, an infection traveled up the umbilical cord, sending her into septic shock, and she battled for her life for almost a week before the doctors finally cleared her to return home, 40 years to the day that she had been born herself.

The moisture absorbed by our clothes and hair in the 30 seconds it took us to get from the building to the car was enough to fog up the windows, even with the defroster running full blast.  Large drops continued to fall.  At the cemetery, we ran for the shelter of the canopy set up for us, huddling with the others.  The burial service began, and suddenly, the rain stopped.  Above us, a small slit appeared between the clouds.  A slender shaft of light reached down.  As we said farewell to Genevieve, we all imagined that particular ray of sunshine had come for her, to carry her to her next destination.
Posted by at
Labels: , ,

8 comments:

  1. Timoteo14 December, 2009 14:38

    My condolences.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Unknown15 December, 2009 00:55

    Thanks, Tim. I am, of course, grateful that my friend survived. And happy that her daughter survived a few months longer than they predicted (there were complications early on, and they originally gave her just a few days to live).

    ReplyDelete
  3. Martina15 December, 2009 12:58

    If this would not sound so irrelevant under these circumstances I would comment that you are a very good writer.
    My best to your friends.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Unknown15 December, 2009 18:06

    I'm no writer, Martina, but I occasionally have my moments. I think it makes a difference when one writes from the heart.

    Kind thoughts are always appreciated.

    ReplyDelete
  5. GELISA LISE16 December, 2009 10:55

    Après la mort d’un enfant, ceux qui l’ont aimé doivent continuer de vivre.

    Mes sincères condoléances.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Unknown16 December, 2009 17:39

    C'est vrai, Gelisa. On vive. Merci de ton soutien.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wander to the Wayside22 December, 2009 08:45

    My daughter has a best friend with the rh factor, and the baby died before the due date and they made her deliver it naturally instead of C-section. The family had a 'gathering' there at the hospital, where they each held the baby and spoke to it before it was taken away, took photos of everyone holding it, etc. She (my daughter) said she had never been so touched by how so many people could love and be touched by this little person they had only known in their imaginations, and how natural it felt to hold it even though it was not physically alive. We went to the funeral, and it was as sad and as poignant as if it was a person who had lived a full life.

    My point being, it is always just too sad to lose a child or grandchild, and to the family it is truly already a person who will be with them forever. And how wonderful that friends turned out to share the sadness and recognition of Genevieve's short life.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Unknown22 December, 2009 19:03

    Genevieve did bring some of us who had not seen one-another in years back together again. Maybe her purpose was to remind us of what is important in our lives. Thanks for visiting.

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)