Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Happy Birthday No. 4

Four years ago, the world welcomed James Camden Sikes. He won many hearts. He died too young, and he left a lifetime behind him, unfulfilled. Alive, James would now be four years old, a living breathing child rather than a projection in the minds of his family, a hazy best guess more closely resembling the "maybe" sketch on the backs of milk cartons than a child. That is a tragedy for which I continue to have no answers.

Over the years, I've made progress when it comes to projections. The milestones still come, that is unavoidable- pre-school, swim lessons, etc.  Projection is a game which has no winners, and a type of speculation that really only ends in sadness. Similarly, the eternal infant paradigm is one I do not find comforting. The thought of James eternally 8 months old, his diapers forever in need of changing, stuck with two teeth poking out of his gums, is unfair to him. He surely deserves to grow up. He did deserve that.  So I avoid projections and focus on memory.

Memories  are painful only in context. Most of memories of James are happy ones. He was a fantastic baby, absurdly cute and very playful. He loved virtually everything, mostly slept well, and cried relatively little. James was the kind of baby who earned superlatives in the hospital. He laughed easily. These memories only become painful to recall in any sense if you contextualize them in death. That is unfair to them. On their own, they are outstanding. I try to remember that.

I do not pretend to understand the afterlife, but I have always thought at the very least one might entertain their own fantasy of what the highlights are. In my fantasy, James would welcome me as the man he would have been. My son. He would tell me everything about himself, that he was happy. He would fill in all the gaps on what we missed. I would tell him that he was loved, and that we were proud of him. He was a very brave boy. If you get to choose how eternity starts, that is the best I can hope for.

Today marked the end of a challenging month. October always is. July is better because his anniversary is closer to the middle of the month, and comes shortly after the 4th, a long weekend with plenty of opportunities not to think about loss. October offers no such respite, and the slow building festive cheer of the Fall provides an unfortunate contrast. Halloween, with all the beautiful children and their costumes, is unfortunately placed in this regard. In addition, I find birthdays difficult as they represent "what should have been" rather than "what was" and in children the former seems more important.

I visited James today in the afternoon. The weather is warmer than it should be, but absolutely perfect. We shared (quite unevenly) a cupcake I brought him. I've done that before, and I always try to pick a different favor. I don't know his favorite. I read, and wandered the grounds. All our old friends are still there. The woman buried closest to James nearly shares his birthday- October 30. Someone has been out earlier, and already brought her a Happy Birthday balloon. I brought one for James as well, as I do every year.  The neighbor and her husband died a few months apart, a full life. The two "Happy Birthday" balloons dance in the light breeze beside one another, as though someone decided to decorate the tables at a surprise party. The headstones in the background are somewhat incongruous. The garden we buried James in is nearly full now, and the cemetery expanding. New roads lead deeper into the old pasture, towards the crest of the ridge the place sits on. I do not know why I spent so much time here immediately after he died, but it is a place of great comfort now. Back then, I needed somewhere safe and quiet to go with my grief, and I found it here. I survived. I worry about the tree by his grave- every year it seems scrawnier than the last. I sing him his song, and Happy Birthday.

The drive home takes longer than it should, I stayed too late and wandered into rush hour. I barely notice. Some days, like today, I feel like I am on autopilot, coasting on reflex from one destination to another. To string together enough thoughts to plan something more ambitious is simply not in me. I have come to accept that you cannot win everyday. Some you only draw, and that is a victory.

I do not have a four year old today. But I still have a son.

I miss him everyday.

Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers.

16 comments:

  1. Happy birthday to your beautiful son. Your words are so touching. You have suffered an unimaginable loss. No doubt your son was right there with you, enjoying that cupcake. My thoughts and prayers are with you. God bless. xo

    ~ Wendy
    http://Crickleberrycottage.blogspot.com/

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  2. Our thoughts and prayers remain

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  3. James lit up our lives in so many ways. Who couldn't love those big blue eye and spiky hair? He was a sweet baby. I love him still.

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  4. Praying for you still.
    DeeDee
    www.KidNeedsAKidney.blogspot.com

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  5. Always in my thoughts and prayers....Happy 4th birthday, Jamesie....<3

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  6. Wishing James a very Happy birthday. Saying a prayer for your family too.

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  7. Happy Birthday. Always in our thoughts x

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  8. My son would have been 4 one month and ten days before James. I like to think of them as friends. I continue to think of you and your bright eyed boy with the gorgeous hair. I continue to wonder what my mostly bald bright eyed boy would look like with hair. A dangerous game. Happy Birthday, sweet James

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  9. I rarely post because I don't know what to say. But I hope you never stop writing in this blog. You and your family will forever remain in my heart and prayers. Susan May

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  10. I continue to think and pray for you.

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