I confess...

Colorado, but it is a beautiful Valley; Psalms 23

Okay, I will admit this up front:  I read the Obituary page in the newspaper. 

Most people don’t readily confess to this, as it has a sense of morbidity about it.  But, I am willing to bet a whole white chocolate macadamia cookie that many readers do at least glance at that page.

Maybe it is my age.  I will be sixty years old, although my brain insists I am still thirty-seven.  The primary cause of death in my age range is random.  Women—cancer of some sort, usually breast cancer.  Men—heart attacks and cancer.  Any age—automobile accidents or violence. 

So, I look at the obits and see if I know anyone there.  So far, so good.  Strangers, all of them. 

But every now and then, there will be a tiny obit about a tiny life.  It takes my breath away, and then I read the simple words:  born one minute, lived a short time, and then gone.  So much said in such a few words.

The movie plays in my head, slowly and I can see every moment.  First, the labor and the efforts of the mother.  Then the joy of that moment when the doctor says, “It’s a ----!”  The silence that follows as the room becomes a whirlwind of doctors and nurses, running to NCU with the struggling newborn.  The mother and father cry, calling questions, “Wait!  What is wrong---?”  Then there is the moment when the doctor walks slowly back to the parents.

And that is the moment where I turn off the movie in my head, and feel horrific sorrow.

A new book has been published: The Golden Sky by EC Stilton.  This book is about all those moments, all those struggles, and the silences when Zeke dies after a short life of 2 ½ months.  Go to Elisa’s site to read and listen.  The book was released November 18, 2011.  



 If you or someone you know has been through those moments, this book is a healing book.  It celebrates the short life and reminds the reader to rejoice always, even in the face of sorrow.

Ecce Puer by James Joyce

James Joyce's Photograph of Ireland

James Joyce was an Irish writer of great fame.  Some of his works are epic, in the truest sense of the word.

James Joyce tribute in Dublin

He also wrote small tender works, such as the poem below.  This poem talks of the birth of his grandson and the death of his father.  Joyce, being the generation in between, writes of this position.

Of the dark past

A child is born.

With joy and grief

My heart is torn.

Calm in his cradle

The living lies.

May love and mercy

Unclose his eyes.;

Young life is breathed

On the glass;

The world that was not

Comes to pass.

The child is sleeping

The old man gone.

Oh, father forsaken,

Forgive your son.

Life and death--two certain events in one's span.  

On this day, November, a baby died nine years ago.  His mother, Elisa C. Stilson, has published her journal about the struggles of his short life, and how she viewed each day.  A precious book.  A painful book.  A book that speaks of a mother's love and her fight to hold all together.

Click on the image to go to this site for an exciting event: The Golden Sky