the age of someone often dictates to us what we may think their extent of knowledge is. we are selling the young short. in fact, i genuinely believe that they know more than we – adults – do.
while in the hospital, Solomon’s world got flipped upside down. the only time he had ever been away from me was just a few weeks earlier. my husband and i had an overnight celebration of our anniversary and my in-laws came and watched the children. so although solomon had his first night without me, he was still in the comforts of his home. so this last couple weeks has totally twisted his reality of comfort and normalcy. he has been here, there, and everywhere except at home with his family, going to sleep in his bed.
i noticed while we were in the hospital that he would kind of rub this tip of his nose with his little finger and fuss. i am not sure why, but i really took note of that as it was something i had never seen him do before. his attitude grew into a monstrous amount of squealing and whining, grunting and fussing, yelling and frustration. and we would all say, “well he sees us sad and crying and can see that something is going on,” and we would all agree that he is aware that something was happening, but maybe did not truly grasp the fact that his baby sister was not coming home with us, and that she died.
he met her. he held her hand. he sat on my lap while she shared that same space as we said goodbye to her. he was there for her last breath. he was there for the crying out, the heartbreak, the wailing. yes, some of you might think that it was too much to have a little one there, or any of the children for that matter. but in reality, it is all part of it. they deserved to be there, they had the right to experience all that they could of their baby sister. they needed to share the reason for grieving and hopefully healing. they needed to understand. at least what was understandable.
but did Solomon really understand? yes, he saw and felt all the emotions that we were all exuding, but did he understand that she was now dead and we will never see her again? does he see why his mom cries everyday and sometimes most of the day?
yesterday i began to understand that yes, he does indeed, understand. we were laying in my bed, the same one that i go to sleep in angst in, the same one that i labored in with my daughter when the cord prolapsed, the same one that i have to see everyday in the same room that my nightmare began… and he pointed over to Archaea’s memory quilt. the children all had put their handprints on this quilt that also has Archaea’s hands and footprints. He pointed to Freedom’s hand – “bubby’s”, pointed to his, “mine,” pointed to vaeas, i said “vaea’s,” then i pointed to Archaea’s and asked him whose they are. He said, “sissy’s.” He knew whose they were. He did not ask further about it or her. we put the quilt away. he knows that the heartbeat recording in my pink bear is “sissy’s” but does not ask where she is.
this morning as i was trying to get into the shower, i turned on pandora music. the first time i have wanted to listen to music for over two weeks now (which was short lived – too much pain) it was a christian station that was on there and the song “be held” was on and i just sat on the bathroom floor crying. solomon came to the door and i held out my arms for him to sit with me… he looked at me, started rubbing his nose with his little finger, and tears started welling in his eyes. he started bawling. he started wailing. he sat down in my lap and just cried and cried and cried with me. we just held each other and cried, deep meaningful, painful sobbing. maybe more than i do, he knows.