• About
  • Noah’s Art
  • Photos of Noah

Without Noah

~ my journey through the sudden loss of a child

Without Noah

Tag Archives: mommy

Noah’s treasures

19 Thursday Sep 2013

Posted by saraphym in Depression, Hope, Love, Memory

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

angel, battle, beautiful son, blessing, boy, broken, Buddhism, change, child, comfort, consciousness, crazy person, crocodile tears, cry, dead, death, dying, faith, family, friends, gift, gifts, god, grief, grieving, heartbreak, heaven, home, honor, insight, kidney, little boy, loss, love, memories, memory, Mental Health, mommy, mother, Noah, organ donation, pain, Parenting, purpose, recipient, sad, sadness, son, son noah, spirit, stranger, suffering, tragedy, transplant, universal, universe, war, writing

I am meeting Noah’s kidney recipient on Saturday and have so much hope and fear around this. Part of my son, the life that formed inside me, the life I nurtured for 7 years, is in this woman. Literally. Stop and think about that for just a minute. Part of Noah is literally living and working inside someone else. I am excited to meet her because I hate that she is a stranger. I need to know who she is – her family, her story. Perhaps I am looking for a reason somewhere: a reason why Noah had to leave this earth. And I know I will not find it in just one place, but I look for the big pieces to give me strength. I know that the moment his consciousness left his body, the focus of energy that made up his potential in this life was dispersed into the far-flung corners of all reality. I wonder if the legacy, the ripples he has created by touching the lives of so many others, is bigger now because his body is gone. Had he lived, would he just be another kid in his class? Another citizen of the world and the universe of billions of beings? Another schmo just trying to make his way in this life?

Of course, I would have rather had him grow up, struggle like the rest of us, be just another face you might see on the street. But that’s just my selfishness asserting itself, because I’m thinking of my own pain. If Noah had the choice, which I believe that on some level he did, he would have wanted to be bigger; to create the biggest possible positive change at whatever the cost. Even if it made Mommy sad, the payoff would be so much bigger. And Mommy would eventually see that.

So, the rest of my life, or at least a part of it, is a kind of treasure hunt. It’s a bunny that sits in the backyard staring at me as I watch him from across the lawn for an hour. It’s a mother, daughter, sister and friend who is now healthy because a part of my son has replenished her very existence. It is all the nurses who so lovingly cared for Noah, then went home to hug and spoil their own children. It is all the tears, the sadness of everyone: Noah’s family, teachers, friends, parents of friends, doctors, nurses, specialists, surgeons, fellow officers, readers / listeners of the story of his life and the transformation that that continually manifests in those people.

It is every time I say his name: Noah Michael Davis. I honor him.

The knowledge that my little boy has created so much positive change in the world in such a small amount of time is so powerful that it’s overwhelming sometimes. I don’t know where to put all of it. The emotions and reactions surrounding this knowledge ebb and flow and fight each other inside of me at all times. I’m proud that he found a way to be such a positive force in so many lives, but I’m angry and miserable that I had to say goodbye to “my baby.” I’m jealous that he has done all of this when, after 36 years on this earth, I am still just trying to begin to understand how I might create what he has so easily accomplished. My humanity and motherhood just wants to hold him again. Watch him grow. But my soul, my heart, knows that he is working and fulfilling his purpose. He’s not gone. Just gone from my sight and my arms. This is another battle that is constantly underway within me. I know the sides that I WANT to win in these little constant wars within but when the guilt starts to bubble up, I hold fast to my Mothers’ Heart and I cannot let him go.

These little battles are what make it so hard to get out of bed some days. To care about paying bills, making dinner, going to work or even just going on with any kind of life can be so difficult. So I try to remember that his soul is still doing it’s work and mine needs to continue in my work, whatever that is or means. And maybe he’s given me the gift of a purpose within all of this. Maybe not. But I cannot ignore the possibility, so I continue searching for Noah’s treasures in the world and within me.

moved in / school begins

13 Monday Aug 2012

Posted by saraphym in Anger, Depression

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

angel, beach, beautiful son, boat, broken, celiac disease, child, crazy, crazy person, cry, dead, death, depressed, drown, drowning, dying, family, family vacation, first day of school, first grade, Food, friends, Gluten Free, Gluten-free diet, god, greiving, grief, heal, heartbreak, heaven, hell, help, High school, johnny cash, loss, loss of child, love, lunch box, memories, memory, mom, mommy, mother, move, moving, new home, organize, pain, sad, sand, school, Shopping, sick, son, Special Diets, suffering, sunshine, support, tubing, unpack, vacation, volatile, writing

so i have a home now. one i can actually go to. there were so many wonderful people who helped me move. they made it so that i didn’t have to go back to the apartment across from the pool where my beautiful son lost his life. there were about 15 people who moved my friend Isabella and myself to new homes across the street from one another. then, the next morning, Sinnamon and Tracy spent their entire Sunday helping Zoe and i unpack, organize and hang pictures. which was good because i was paralyzed at the prospect of doing it all again. i probably would have just left everything.

it has all been SO difficult. seeing all the items that surrounded our little family. the coffee table where we played Sorry and legos and colored. the dining room chairs where i had to remind him to sit on his bottom. his framed art, his Cars bicycle…all those boxes in the basement that i can’t bear to look at. i still look around and wonder what happened. everything is bewildering and i am stunned and paralyzed by all that makes up my environment, my life…the thoughts and memories in my head.

today would have been Noah’s first day of first grade. my babygirl Zoe started high school today. i no longer have a little kid. no more school supply lists, lunch boxes and notes to teachers about Noah’s dietary needs. no more trying to keep his breakfast from staining his fancy new school clothes, courtesy of his loving Nana. no before and after school care. no big sweet hugs from my little boy as i send him off to learn about the world. just a huge space and lazer-like focus on getting Zoe ready.

it’s cooler outside today and it makes me just as angry as when it’s sunny and warm. every day is just another day without my son. another day with no relief, no escape from the pain and heartbreak of this loss. another day of just getting by and hoping that time will heal. but i don’t feel like I’m healing. i feel irreversibly altered. twisted. broken. just like so many others, i have always said that losing a child would be the one thing i could never endure. “just put me in a padded room if that ever happens,” I used to say. “throw away the key.” because how could i ever begin to try to live with that kind of pain?

and now here i am and i’m not far from wishing for that room. people keep telling me that it gets better and i know i’m not supposed to give myself time restrictions…but WHEN exactly is it supposed to get better? and what does “get better” mean? because if it doesn’t mean that I get my son back then that’s just not “better” enough. i hear people say that i’m strong but i don’t feel strong at all. i feel shaky, volatile, crazy, indifferent to anything to do with the business of getting on with life. i miss him desperately and the slightest things set me off: all the gluten-free cookbooks, breakfast cereal, waffles. the extra toaster that was dedicated to his food only, so as not to risk cross-contaminiation of the wheat that made him so sick. It’s these little things that punctuate the pain, especially today, as Noah’s friends start first grade without him in their world.

all of this hurt swells up inside of me, making me feel like a shadow of who I used to be. just one year ago Jason, the kids and I took a last-minute vacation to the beach to stay with family and play in the sand and surf. my mother was still alive, in recovery from her last surgery. he hunted shells like a pro and dug in the sand. i’m so glad that i insisted on taking that vacation so that the kids could see the ocean for the first time. they both loved it and loved spending time with Skip and Linda. Noah would practice his “Ringmaster” skills on the back porch for hours and he loved the boat ride where he and Zoe got to go tubing. i spend hours just staring at the photos from that trip. he had such a great time. here are a few of my favorites:

Having him in my life…this sweet little angel calling me Mommy…that was a heaven my heart yearns for endlessly. Now that my heart has known and lost that heaven, a part of my heart will forever dwell in hell.

I will end with an attempted video dedication to my little man: Johnny Cash | You Are My Sunshine

Mommy misses you, Bubbers. XOXOX

January 2021
M T W T F S S
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031
« Aug    

Popular Posts

  • Twelve
  • What you don't know
  • Three Years
  • This.
  • The little things. 

Join 1,028 other followers

Like Noah on Facebook

Like Noah on Facebook

My Books

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Cancel
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy