Elephants II
Three years ago on this day I gave birth to my son, Jerin Alexander. I was what I thought to be 5 months pregnant at the time. My son had already left us when I delivered him, this blog has been my story.
Last year on this day I talked about the story my counselor had told me about elephants. Elephants have an amazing ability to honor and morn those who have left them. When they come across bones of their loved ones, they remember them by picking up their bones and lovingly holding and caressing them. They approach grief with openness and loving tenderness.
Last year I wasn't able to be the elephant. I felt that the memory was too raw, it was too soon to remember my son with gentle, loving, and tender thoughts. This year I was able to pick up the memory and hold it closely to my heart. After cleaning my closet, I found my little stash of him. I looked at my picture of him and I saw things I didn't remember before. He looked so peaceful. He had his ten little fingers and toes. His features were so defined already. And......he had hair. He already had black hair on top of his head! I remember being afraid to see him and hold him. I strangely didn't want to have a connection with him. I didn't want the connection to cause more pain.....but I knew that I needed to hold him. I had to see my son. The moment was the same as if he were alive. I was crying from how beautiful he was. I showed him to my mom and Jerry had his time to bond with his son. I remember him being half the size of my forearm. The blankets weighed more than he did. I don't know how long we spent with him but I remember it like it was yesterday. He was my little man already.
I've often referred to this journey as an ugly scar that will forever be with me. This year I believe this journey is a scar, but I think the meaning is a bit different. Every scar has a story. Every scar involves pain. Some stories are heroic and others are silly. But no matter what the story.....there is a story.
Jerin will always be my scar....my story. He will forever be alive as long as I keep telling my story. Even if my scar is ugly, I can't hide it. He is the first chapter, the beginning of really starting to KNOW God and knowing myself. The beginning of living authentically and having relationships that matter and help make the world a bearable place to live. The beginning of not "doing" but "being." The beginning of questioning, being mad at, and truly opening myself up to God like never before.
This year I realize that losing Jerin may have just saved myself. Saved myself from living a meaningless, mundane, and unauthentic life. I have an opportunity to live life fully and freely through pain.
I feel like I always end with thanking you for your support. But there really isn't a lot of people who are comfortable with his kind of journey. It can be a very lonely place and road so I thank you again for your love.
