~ by Cherie Houston
I recently read that two of the hardest things to say in life
are “Hello” for the first time and “Goodbye” for the last time…I’d never
thought about it until I read this, but how true.. But as parents can we ever really say goodbye
to our children – even when they die… I
believe Gandhi is right when he says: There are no
good-byes, where ever you'll be, you'll be in my heart. ~ Gandhi
My daughter Robin Marie died forty years ago today. We were living in Dallas, Texas – Robin was 7 months and 2 days old – Robin was born Dec. 29th, 1971 – just
9 months after her twin siblings.. She
was already pulling herself up in her crib & playpen and was holding on and could walk around the couch – all the time smiling with the proudest sense of
accomplishment. We’d been to the
pediatrician the day before she died. "She’s doing wonderfully & thriving" we were told – she received the usual vaccines – and it was an uneventful
afternoon and evening and she went down that night as usual. A Close neighbor friend of ours was there that evening, she had just had a little
girl and couldn’t find a christening gown she liked, so I had I pulled Robin’s
christening gown from my hope chest for her to borrow…
A little before 7am the next morning I awoke to the most
horrible screams of anguish – it was my husband – he’d awoken and gone in to
give Robin her bottle in her crib with a beautiful eyelet canopy, in the red white & blue nursery that she shared with her
older brother Ricky. Ricky was 9 months older than Robin and with the noise of his daddy he also began to cry… I’m not sure what
made me call 911 before I even got out of bed, but I did. I don’t remember what my husband may have said that
made me do that, but I did. By the time
I got to the nursery, which was just steps away from our room, her daddy was
sitting on the floor rocking her, begging God not to let this happen again,
not to take our second child.. You see
16 months prior, when Rickey was born, his twin sister Randee Marie had died the day after she was born, they were 12 weeks premature and she just wasn’t strong enough.. We were blessed that Ricky did survive (and
I might add that today Ric continues to thrive and has 2 beautiful children of
his own – a 12 year old son and 8 year old daughter, whom is named after his
twin sister and ironically was born on the same day Randee had died, March
17th, 31 years later…
That morning, 40 years ago, the moment I took Robin from her
daddy*, I knew she was already with her sister Randee in heaven. I’ve never
been one to lock our doors, so the Police, Fire Dept and EMT’s had no problem
getting into our home and in moments our beautiful nursery on the 2nd
floor was filled with first responders, tears, questions and I remember praying
that God would just take us all…. After that everything gets hazy.. I don’t
remember who or how Rickey was taken from his crib, or how we got downstairs,
but I vividly remember being downstairs in our living room when the EMT’s took
Robin from our home. My poor husband*, her dad, was totally numb and overcome
with grief… As the EMT’s came
downstairs carrying Robin, I remember 3 things – watching one of the first
responders on our back patio crying inconsolably and being comforted by another
officer and my yelling at him to stop crying (I learned later that it was his
first day back to work after losing his own 4 month old son to SIDS); I also remember looking at her beautiful
christening gown laying on the dining room table and wondering why it was last night that I'd taken it out - the Christening wasn't for another few weeks; and I remember them asking me if we wanted to say
good-bye, I remember telling them I would never say good-bye and then I
remember crying and thinking the tears would never stop...
But the tears did stop, I'm not sure how but there were calls to make,
arrangements to be made. We were in Dallas, Texas and all our family
was in New England - I knew we needed to take
Robin back to Massachusetts to be her little sister; I knew we needed our families around us. I also remember apologizing
to our neighbor Beth that I couldn’t loan her the christening gown because I
wanted Robin to wear that… and then the tears began again....
Within hours we were flying back to Boston and stayed in New England
for several weeks – we were blessed that our close friends in Texas took care
of the nursery including removing all of her things and buying Ricky a big boy
bedroom set and redoing the room with stars and planets. I remember the tears coming again when Robin was buried on August 6th with her little sister – but
still I couldn’t say good-bye.. The tears continued on and off for many months. I can remember sometimes feeling
as though I couldn’t possibly have any tears left; there were days when I would
scream – at anyone or anything – just scream as though I were insane; and I
vividly remember picking up a jar of baby of food in the grocery store & breaking
down when I realized I no longer needed to buy it, and leaving everything where
it stood as I ran to the privacy of my car, again the tears wouldn't stop...
I was blessed to have several reasons to continue on – first
I had to take care of my 16 month old son Ricky, who was too young to
understand what had happened but missed his playmate terribly and would look
for her everywhere so we talked about her all the time he and I; then Dr.
Sturner who was the Dallas Medical Examiner and became my mentor as I quickly
immersed myself in establishing the first SIDS chapter in Dallas – which for me
saved my sanity for sure-meeting other families help me to cope with all the
mixed feelings of guilt, anger and whatever else there may have been going on
in my mind at the time…and last by not least, was the fact that I became
pregnant again, with my son Bobby – who was born the following August 27th,
1973…
Looking back now I remember how hard it was to say “hello”
to Bobby for the first time and how the tears came without warning - mixed tears of joy and sorrow; and when Bobby died 36 years later on Sept. 19th, 2009 the tears came again, but I also made a conscious decision again not to say good-bye. I know that they are not nor will they ever be physically with us again, but I just don't feel it is necessary to say goodbye to any of them - to
his sisters Randee Marie in Mach 1971 or Robin Marie in July 1972, and I'll not say good-bye to Bobby either…
I am blessed to have 3 guardian angels (4 actually because
my grandmother Mae is with them I believe) and I talk to the 4 of them
continually. I believe they are
responsible for my always getting the best parking space no matter where we go
and how crowded it may be, they are the dragonflies who visit us often and in
states where dragonflies normally don’t frequent; and I’ve been blessed not to
dream of any of them, which is probably best so I’m never tempted to say
good-bye..….
I do talk to them often but I also believe it is so important for every parent who
loses a child to have people to talk to
- people who will let you talk and who don't judge what you say....
I’m convinced that this rarely can be a family member because family is
also hurting, family and most friends are simply too close to the situation. We each need someone who will let us say anything that needs saying, whether it hurts or not. After my girls it was Dr. Sturner in Dallas and the countless
parents I worked with thru our SIDS chapter; since Bobby’s death it has been the
wonderful moms of our Journey from Mourning to Joy group where we live in Lake
Havasu City, AZ – their founder Joyce Floyd called me within weeks of Bobby’s
death and Joyce and her “team” (all moms who have been on this same journey) have been my rocks and inspiration ever since that
first call weeks after Bobby's death and then of course each of the moms who share in this and so many other blogs…. If you aren’t one for support groups,
then find a minister, health care professional, counselor or even a even a grief
hotline, which are manned by people who are trained to listen – many of whom have
been where you are…
As much as we love our family, friends, spouses, siblings
etc. it’s important to understand how very personal and unique grief is to each
of us – there is not right or wrong way – we each have to find our own way
through it… So for me, it's not good-bye - it is "until we meet again"! and yes the tears still fall on days like this....
*Note-I wish someone like Kelly Farley and the Grieving Dads Project had been around for my ex-husband (the father of my 3 children who have died) 40 years ago.. So many dads, like him, are never able to cope with these loses and by not facing or dealing with the grief, so many aspects of their lives suffer for years o come.....
“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people
move our souls to dance. They awaken us to new understandings with the passing
whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon.
They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints in our heart, and we are
never ever the same” ~ Chicken Soup for
the Soul
