Amelia: Loss

I originally was going to title this post, "How am I going to tell Amelia?" It's a question that I had on my mind many times this past month. I changed the title to "Loss", this month I have experienced loss and reflected on loss.

Loss of Innocence
A few weeks ago, Amelia's classmate, whom is a brain cancer survior, had a life-threatening complication after surgery. As the days unfolded with uncertainty, I began to ask myself, "How am I going to tell Amelia if she dies?" How do you sit down with your child and make sense of their friend dying? How do you start the conversation that will end in your child's innocence being taken? As parents we want to guard the innocence of our children, but death knows no boundaries. Well... Amelia's friend made a miraclous comeback maybe in part because her name is Angel. smile. Amelia was happy to have her back at school and said, "we must be careful with her head when we play with her." Amelia is learning empathy at a young age. She goes to school with children who not only have hearing loss, but illnesses. During naptime at school the other day, I had the opportunity to see Angel. I bent over her when she was asleep and rubbed her back. I am so glad she is doing much better. I am also thankful that Amelia's innocence was spared a little longer.

Loss of Childhood
A week ago today, my Grandad Farmer passed away at the age of 95. We had seen him the Sunday before. He had been declining, but when the news came I still felt shock.  I could not ask him to stay any longer, but I didn't want him to go. The sadness has been great. How do you say goodbye to such a big part of your childhood? I once again turned my thoughts to the question "How am I going to tell Amelia and my other kids?" When they came home from school, we sat them on the couch and my husband actually told them. He was great to find the words when I could not. They all responded differently and in their own way. They would think of new questions to ask throughout the day as they processed. When the kids arrived at my grandparent's house, Amelia walked in the door and the first question out of her mouth was, "Where is grandad?  Children verbalize what we play over and over again in our conscious.We have to keep telling ourselves..  Is he really dead? I can't believe he is dead! Today on the ride home, Amelia said out of the blue, "Grandad died." I asked her to tell me about it in a story. Here is what she said: Once upon a time Grandad died. and then he stopped breathing. You cried and Grandma cried. and they put him under the dirt. " Last week I lost a big part of my life "under the dirt", but I will have many memories to carry on.

Loss of a child
Many of you just read the title of this next section and questioned whether you could read on. They say it's the most profound loss, the loss of a child. You see I use to wonder what happens to a parent when they lose a child, how do they go on, do they ever recover? Last year I volunteered in the Hamm center toddler class and a little boy named Joseph became my favorite! When I started taking pictures and collecting stories for Let Georgia Hear, I contacted his mom Laura. I opened her email and was not prepared for what I was about to read. Joseph was a twin, born at 24 weeks! His brother, Campbell, held on for a few weeks before passing. Laura had lost a child.  This year I have become closer friends with Laura. While her blog is heartbreaking at times and I know she must have her days, she breaks my stereotype of a parent that has lost a child. She lives for the living when I thought she might stop living and dwell on the dead. She now works as a mentor to other parents. She is a Hamm Parent Teacher Club Officer. She is a new mommy to a cute baby girl. She is a strong woman. She makes me better by putting my life into perspective. She is a great inspiration of how to live life after a loss.
Today I also learned of another Hamm mom that had lost a twin.  Her story turned from tragedy to a inspiring story of how she became a NICU nurse after her experience. As she shared her story today, it was interrupted several times by a kiss on the cheek from her surviving twin. I went to the bathroom and cried. Every child in Hamm has a story. Every loss seems to turn into this greater story of miracles & life lessons. Most say God has a plan that only can be understood in time. I feel like this journey with Amelia's hearing loss has put me in the paths of so many moms and so many lessons. I see the answers to some of the "why?". Today I announced at our PTC (parent teacher club) meeting that I would not be president again next year, because Amelia will graduate! I was asked if I would come back to visit or volunteer. The answer is A BIG YES!!! The moms of the Hamm Center have given me the greatest gift in life....perspective in the midst of loss.
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