As a child it didn't really mean much. I was just along for the ride, putting flowers near headstones of people I'd never met. But as I got older there became new graves. These belonged to people I knew and loved growing up. As a young adult, these visits became more and more meaningful to me.
At Odd Fellows, we visit a total of ten graves now. Two of them mean more to me now than ever before because of one huge difference...my daughter.
My Grandma Baldwin passed away while I was in college. To be honest, throughout my high-school and college years I wasn't really close to her like I was as a child. She had dementia by that point and in my teens I didn't really know how to handle that. I like to think back on older memories of her. The ones where she would always let me put on her red indelible lipstick (I can still remember the way it smelled), or where we would make cookies together, or how she would take me in the backyard and show me how to pick mint leaves, chew them up and spit them out. She was amazing with animals. As a child she actually trained ground squirrels to ride around in her pockets. I always remember her feeding bullfrogs on her back porch that she had trained to eat out of her hands. She was also an artist and I cherished the times that she would get out a little table and chair for me and show me how to use pastels or oil paints. Every time I sit down to paint today, I think about how it's a bit of her coming through me.
As I stood over her grave yesterday, I was so struck by how much of her is in Hayden. The crazy love of chocolate, the strong will and fiesty spirit and her love of painting and animals. I looked over at Hayden in the driveway the other day to see her having a conversation with a bird that had flown down to sit by her. Most of all yesterday, I wished that my grandma could be here to see Hayden. I know that she would have loved her so much.
The second grave, the one that really brings me to tears, is that of my aunt. Beverly would have been my mom's older sister but she only lived to be twenty days old. I think this would affect any mom to stand amongst the sea of graves in the cemetery's section labeled "Baby Land". More than that, however, is what my family has discovered about what took Beverly's life.
For those of you that don't know, my daughter has Cystic Fibrosis. This disease clogs the lungs and digestive system with a thick mucus making it impossible to digest food and have health lungs without the assistance of medications. Even with all these drugs the life expectancy today is 37 years. This is improving every year and Hayden's future will be very bright. However, children with CF born in the 40s and 50s never even made it to kindergarten.
When Hayden was born her belly was extremely distended. She immediately had surgery to remove part of her colon that had been detroyed by a blockage called meconium ileus. When doctors see an intestinal blockage like this, they automatically assume a diagnosis of CF. Genetic testing must still be done to confirm, but Ryan and I were told to prepare ourselves and to start learning about the disease immediately.
When we were told that Hayden needed surgery on her intestines because they were blocked, something clicked for my grandparents. Bless their hearts, it was kind of like re-living a nightmare. They started to remember what they had been told about Beverly. They were told that she had to be taken away because her belly was swollen and that there was nothing the doctors could do. Her intestines were blocked and lifeless. Back then there truly was nothing to be done.
Hayden's birth and diagnosis answered a 60-year-old question for my family. Beverly had had cystic fibrosis.
We will never know 100% if we are correct. However, the mutated gene that causes CF has to be passed down through generations. Her story is just like Hayden's. While we will never fully know, I think all of us in hearts believe that CF is what took Beverly's life.
I said her story is just like Hayden's but really, it's not. As I look at Beverly's grave I think about how Hayden is the second chance. Beverly couldn't beat this horrible disease but Hayden can. I think of all the years I visited her grave with no idea of how much she would eventually touch my life. I think of how much Hayden's health must mean to my grandparents. I find myself whispering to her, "Beverly, we will beat it this time. I promise".
As I left the cemetery yesterday, I pictured both Beverly and my Grandma Baldwin watching down over Hayden. Protecting her and loving her from their place in heaven. And as these thoughts left my mind...I felt peace.
Thank you, mom and dad, for this Memorial Day tradition. Now that I am grown, it means more to me than a million days at the lake.
My OCD is wanting to reach out and straighten that taper candle.
Please allow me a moment to grieve the fact that those cheeks are gone and are never coming back.
This was our first year for the pop art theme, thankyouverymuch April Dawes!
This is Hayden's CF doctor, Dr. Santiago Reyes. He da MAN!!!!!
This is Hayden getting her Hero of Our Hearts Award. In case you can't tell, she's terrified.
Hayden with her new besties
So darn cute.
Back at home. Time for a nap.
I tried to take a picture of the artistry that was my eyelids but my phone can only do so much. The pics came out looking like I had a black eye and that would not be a very good representation of his fabulous work, now would it?
Yes, I am well aware that I am just shy of six feet without shoes and that these 4 in. heels make me an Amazon. Do I care? Not one iota. (Ok, I just looked up iota in the dictionary to make sure it was a real word and not just one my mom made up because that has happened. Turns out it is.) There are countless non-superficial reasons I love my mother too. They just don't photograph as beautifully. :)
You can see a coat hanger next to the corkboard. Does anyone have any good ideas for what I could paint above it? Like a cute phrase or something. In the open space above my washer and dryer I am going to paint it to say "Domestic Diva at Work". Any of you who know me know that this will be done with total sarcasm. Above the door leading into the kitchen I am in the process of painting a sign that says "Welcome Home". Anway, I just feel like there needs to be one or two words above that rack. Ideas anyone?
