Memories

8:26 AM


I joined a "Grieving Parents" group that was created by a pastor in Texas.  His son passed away 3 weeks ago today in a drowning accident.  He has too, started a blog.  Reading it this morning, brought back those flooding memories of the pain and trauma I felt the day of Aspen's accident. I remember sitting on a gurney in the emergency room just shaking uncontrollably. Nothing could comfort me.  I feared at any moment, the doctors would tell me, he was gone.  After an hour, they were able to bring him back.  I can only imagine the lengths they went to. The doctors warned me that it wasn't good, but I didn't care.  For all intents and purposes, Aspen was breathing again.  Albeit, with the help of a ventilator, he was breathing and alive.  There was hope.  I was able to lay with him and talk to him and sing him songs.  My family was able to talk to him.  I remember the hours my dad spent next to him, singing him the same songs he sung these past 3 1/2 years when he would lull him to sleep. Aspen opened his eyes.  His long beautiful brown eyelashes were wet, it almost looked like he had tears in his eyes.  I saw his piercingly stunning brown eyes for the last time. For the days that followed, his eyes became fixed and dilated which was a sign his brain was slowly dying. The memories of those days in the hospital took me down this morning.  As dumb as it sounds, I want to face this grief.  I do. I know it's the healthy thing to do. As Rabbi Baruch HaLevi states in his book, Spark Seekers, Mourning with Meaning; Living with Light, "Darkness denied is darkness delayed."  I know this is truth, but some days the pain just takes my breath away. It's days like this, where I lose all momentum to accomplish anything.  With laundry piling and beds unmade, clean dishes waiting to be put away - I just sit at my desk and sob. I need to pull myself together.  I have so much to do.  I need to face my day and realize...

 The darkness is beyond your full control, and just when you think you have ascended beyond it, you find yourself back in the grief and feeling like you're at square one - like a game of Chutes and Ladders. 
                                                                      - Rabbi Baruch HaLevi

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4 comments

  1. MegLandersOctober 18, 2016 at 11:42 AM

    We are complete strangers, but I have followed your and the Graves' stories, including your blog, from the beginning. Although your posts are filled with deep, soul wrenching sadness, they are also filled with beauty. Your words have moved me as a person, as a mother. I am no professional, but to me, the fact that you are getting all these thoughts and emotions out at all, is a sign you are facing the darkness. I pray for your family every day, and today I pray you will be gentle with yourself. It is so evident Aspen's beautiful spirit still lives on! God Bless you ❤️

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    1. Lisa SeemannOctober 19, 2016 at 8:45 PM

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    2. Lisa SeemannOctober 19, 2016 at 8:46 PM

      Meg, It means so much that you are reading my words. It's all I have left to honor my angel. I never want one person to forget our sweet angel. It is my life mission to help others struggling in any way. He was such an amazing boy. I want to touch others through his spirit. Hugs to you!!

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  2. LeslieOctober 20, 2016 at 9:55 PM

    I don't have words! Someday...the sun will shine again. I pray for you, I pray to God that it will shine for you AGAIN!! You're Angel Baby will be there to hold you tight,tonight, as you sleep.

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