Thursday, March 16

If I'd Only Known Then What I Know Now

Time is precious. I've learned that over and over these past couple years.
We live three hours from our parents and my brothers and sisters, which is why the time we spend with them is increasingly more precious as it becomes less and less frequent. Sometimes I feel guilty because I only met my niece twice during the two months she was alive.
Maya died in her crib to SIDS on December 14 of last year and it's been a rough few months for my sister. You've seen the little girl's pictures on this site and it still shocks me to think that my sister had something so precious taken away. She lost Maya while Amy was nearing the end of her first trimester, and at that point, her loss seemed indescribably horrific to me.
I love my son in such a strong, bizarre way that I can't imagine having him in my arms one day and burying him a few days later.
We are doing a check presentation Friday for the rescue squad in my hometown. I'll be damned if I miss it. They tried so hard to revive Maya the night she died, and were so emotionally affected by her death that I feel I have to be present. Plus, it's going to be a crappy day for my sister, and I'd be a schmuck if I weren't there to let her know her daughter was important to me. She was. And I'll be there to prove it once again.
I try to understand what it must feel like, but I can't imagine. Since I don't know and hopefully NEVER will know, the most I can do is offer my support. Plus, I can't wait to hold Matthew and Peyton and to tease Tori and Luke.
I'm closing this post with a poem my mother wrote about Maya's death. I have a bajillion poems by my mom and I'm going to post them occasionally, since many are about my family. Here's the poem:
If I'd Known Then What I Know Now
I would count each hair on your head and
memorize each nuance of light
dancing on each gossamer strand.
I would store your fresh baby smell in a
bottle for days of drought without you,
when my memory grows dim; future
faith blinded my present with you.

If I’d known then what I know now, nothing
could distract me from watching you
nestle safe in my arms close to my heart,
sweet visions skipping on your eyelids,
sparkly diamonds in morning dew and
pixie dust reserved just for you.
Order the mundane be silent - no
desire for caution this last day!

If I’d known then what I know now,
I would beg God for just a little
more time, for one last kiss on your velvety
cheek, one more lingering look, one
more breathtaking smile before you go,
long enough for my solemn promise:
this is not good-bye, my love, it is,
“See you later, my little Sweetpea.”

Maya Michelle