“Dear Felix,” I start my journal entries now, channeling my son through his two sweet syllables. I feed and water our relationship with words, not wanting to miss what blooms in darkness. I beckon him close, close, closer still.
Read MoreWhat I wouldn’t give to return to the before - a time when I took for granted that you would be okay, when my biggest problem was my inability to roll over and my constant heartburn. The person in that recording had no idea what I know. That life can turn in a moment. That we have so little control over some of the most important things. That a loss so great can make you feel as if you have a physical gash in your heart that will never heal no matter how much time passes.
Read MoreOver the past two months, as I have sat with the thought of my little girl turning five years old, I realized that she is just that—my little girl. She is not symbolic, not abstract, not a purpose or a motivation. She was not a perfect piece of our life’s puzzle, which fit perfectly to make us whole. She was a little girl, a beautiful infant, who did not get to write her own magical story.
Read MoreMy son wants the brown bear in every picture. 'It feels like she’s my sister,' he says. The brown bear we love so much. The one that should have been hers. Merry Christmas Zia Bear. +++ To you, I won’t say Happy Holidays. I’ll say live. It's all we can do now. Live, rambling on about the ache in our hearts and souls. Ramble on the untold story. The incomplete tale. Hers, mine, ours.
Read MoreWe chose your name, Joseph. Never thinking that anyone would utter it again. Never thinking anyone would speak of you, remember you. We didn’t know your death was not the end. We didn’t know your name should be whispered, written, shouted, sung.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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