Lessons Learned

This morning I attended the funeral of my cousin's baby girl. Marissa Marie went to be with Jesus on Thursday, January 22nd. I had never experienced a child's funeral before, and for that I am thankful. Seeing sweet baby M in her casket was heart-wrenching. She looked like a gorgeous little porcelain doll. I found myself wanting to just scoop her up...her chubby little legs and fingers looked so perfect. It was hard to look at her and not wonder why she is gone. We still don't know the cause of her death, and probably won't for a couple of weeks. I had a chance last night at the viewing to spend some time with M's older sister. Madi is 5 and was looking a little sad, so I called her over to sit with me. I was asking her if she was ready for things to be normal again, and she said, "Yeah. I want people to stop bringing food. We have enough food at our house."

This is my last post about M's death...because it's time to move on. She is toddling along the streets of Heaven, with no heart troubles to slow her down. She finally got to meet her Great Grandma who passed away 3 weeks after M was born.

And this experience has taught me to hold tightly to the ones I love, because they could have years, months, or only a day left. I don't want to have regrets about something I said to someone if that turned out to be the last thing I ever said to them. 

And I want to savor every single moment of my children's lives. The good, the bad, and the ugly :) God has given them to me, and while I hope they're here for the long haul, I don't know that. Every day is a gift. We would all do well to remember that (even while I'm typing this and my 2 yr old is screaming at the top of her lungs from her bedroom...it's still a gift!)

Jodi

Marissa

I've been struggling with this post all day...knowing I should write something, and wanting to write something...but also not knowing what to write. My mom called me this morning to tell me that my cousin's 11 month old baby girl had passed away. When Marissa was born she had open heart surgery, but was doing really well. We don't have all the details of her death, but it kind of sounds like it was her heart. I found this on a friend's blog and with her permission I have posted it here. I read it when she posted it, and then read it again today. It took on a whole new meaning to me in light of what my cousin is going through right now.

 

Do you ever quietly slip into your child’s room hours after you kissed him goodnight?

Do you ever sit by the side of his crib, your face pressed against the slats, noticing the way his mouth looks when he is asleep?

Do you ever watch the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest while he breathes in and out peacefully?

Do you ever try to breathe in the same rhythm wanting to connect on a far deeper level than the intake and output of breath?

Do you ever look at the way his hair falls on his head, how it swirls in one direction, or curls around his ear?

Do you ever get so close you can feel his warm, sweet breath on your cheek?

Do you ever so slightly touch his open palm savoring the silkiness of skin yet calloused?

Do you ever try to memorize the way his body looked when sleep finally overcame him, legs and arms in different directions, bottom in the air?

Do you ever startle in amazement at how much he has grown without you noticing?

Do you ever wish you could scoop him up without disturbing him so you could hold him close to your chest and absorb his warmth into your body?

Do you ever wonder how you lived, actually fully lived without this child filling your minutes, your hours, your days?

Do you ever breathe a prayer of gratefulness for this life, so complex and challenging, so energetic, so able to inspire a love that overwhelms you?

Do you ever?

Or is it just me?

 

Please keep the  Squadrito family in your prayers. There are 4 other children in the family who have lots and lots of questions, and I'm sure no one really has the answers right now. Thanks. Oh, and thank God for the gift of your children...no matter how frustrated you may get with them at times.

 

              We'll miss you Marissa Girl. Enjoy being loved on by Grandma Great!

 

Jodi