Eddie Vedder. Mookie Blaylock. Mr. President.

Diddy,

As you know, I’ve recently formed an unlikely – yet totally healthy, obsession with Pearl Jam. How they ever managed to slip off my musical radar, I haven’t a clue. But it’s a damn shame. Nonetheless, every time I hear a song by Pearl Jam, I have a visceral reaction of sorts. Their lyrics seemingly lace through my tattered heart and wrap around my torn soul, and somehow make me feel a little less hollow.

Eddie Vedder, in particular, possesses talent which I feel is uncanny and I am certain goes unmatched. He should probably be President. I swear the man could croon the world into peace. But, I’ll settle for him singing you into a peaceful slumber. After all, you are my entire world.

Sleep tight, wherever you are. Here is your lullaby for tonight…a la Mr. President.

I miss you desperately. I love you even more.

Stay with me, Sweet Boy.

xoox,

Momma

Advertisements

i’ll up the ante again. and again.

Paxton,

A memory of you popped into my mind’s eye this morning. You were happily bouncing and cooing away in your bunny seat, while smiling at your (adorable) reflection in Mr. Cow. As always, I recalled every last detail with acute precision: from the the tiny crook in the lobe of your left ear, to your almost-but-not-quite-off-centered smile, down to the way your arm involuntarily pumped into the air. Your half-excited, half-serious voice echoed in my ears and straight through my bones.

It didn’t take long before I began negotiating, with no one in particular, for a deal they couldn’t refuse. Bring you back to me. I pledged anything – everything, in exchange for you in my arms. My desperate negotiation ended the same way it always does; with the harsh realization that no matter how grandiose or lavish my ante: it will never be enough. You aren’t ever coming back.

Should anyone still find validity in the age-old, psychological Stages of Grief, your Momma must be stuck smack dab in the middle of the ‘Barging’ stage. If you ask me, there is simply nothing universal about the time or way in which a person grieves. Suggesting that a prescribed way to mourn the death of your only child exists, is as insulting as it is ridiculous. In fact, I am quite certain it makes perfectly good sense that I find myself attempting to strike a deal with the universe to let me have the love of my life back in my arms.

Without a doubt, and without pause, I swear on all things good and pure, I would give anything…everything, to have you back again.

I believe it’s just about time for your afternoon nap. Allow the rain falling from the sky wash away any tears you’ve cried today. Let the lyrics of your afternoon lullaby line your soul; I mean every last word. Fade into a peaceful slumber. I will be right here when you awake. I will be here forever thereafter, too.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you catch the kisses I throw into the sky for you.

xoox,

Momma

P.S. Today is April 26th. You’d be 26 months old today. I am so sorry.

 

 

home is where your lala is.

Paxton,

It’s official. Lala and Uncle Stephen have moved to town! It is hard to process all they’ve done, and undone, in the past four months. Besides the obvious upheaval moving one’s family across the state entails, your Lala is severely allergic to change. All who know her know this to be an undeniable fact. For example, Lala has still not been able to ‘part’ with her sticker collection. She’s been hauling around albums upon albums of stickers for 30 years…yes, 30. She has, however, finally parted ways with her straw-wrapper collection. You heard me Diddy; your crazy daisy Lala used to save the wrappers to the straws she drank her milk with at lunch in 6th grade. (Promise. Ask Nana and Papa.)

Alas, when the shit-of-all-shit hit the fan, Lala could be kept at bay no longer. Without further contemplation, she and Uncle Stephen listed their house in spring. It sold in four days. Without further ado, they began their search for a new home in the Milwaukee area. They found just the perfect one, in just the perfect neighborhood. In turn, your cousins are the new kids on the block, and they will be the new kids at school this fall. Lala will quit a job she loves, and will eventually take one she may or may not like at all. For now, she is living with a friend in Madison, and coming home on the weekends. Uncle Stephen is manning the three kids, two puppy pups – one who cannot walk, and a house in half-moved-in, full-court chaos. (Just another example of Uncle Stephen’s heart of gold…and patience of steel.)

After three sticky, icky days of packing the Madison house and then the most enormous U-haul truck known to man, the Siodlarz family set out on the final leg in their relocation to Milwaukee. Your uncle drove the U-haul, which was pulling another U-haul trailer. (A last minute, “Oh shit. Our stuff isn’t going to fit!” required an impromptu additional trailer rental.) Your Lala was driving the kids and puppy pups in the chocked full mini-van…which, for visualization purposes, was also outfitted with a very stuffed car-top carrier. (Because apparently they still make those?!?) As she made her way from the Beltline in Madison to I-94 towards Milwaukee, an unmistakable message from you emerged high in the sky. In a state of giddy disbelief Lala reached for her phone and called me. She said, “DD….guess what is staring me right in the eyes?!? The most beautiful, vibrant rainbow I’ve ever seen! I don’t know about you, but where I live, not a single drop of rain has fallen in weeks!” I couldn’t get a word in edgewise because Lala was hyperventilating in a half-laugh, half-cry. It didn’t matter. Nothing more needed to be said. We both knew it was you thanking Lala for coming to get your Momma.

A relocation of such nature would be a huge undertaking for any family. But for Lala, it is unprecedented. The realization that Lala and Uncle Stephen uprooted their family, their home, their children and their careers largely in efforts to live closer to Momma is astonishing…and humbling. The love and support they’ve provided throughout the past few years has been unwavering and steadfast. This, however, supersedes my wildest imagination…even from Lala the Wonderful.

Over the past six weeks, I travelled to places both old and new. I set out on that journey in search of peace. To be honest with you, I did not find the peace I was so desperately seeking. However, I’ve come closer to accepting that given all I’ve lost in the past year – my soul may simply never be quite the same. Perhaps the peace I’ve been seeking, the kind that once lived deep inside of me, is not meant to ever live there again. I can’t begin to imagine what the future holds, nor I’m I interested in trying to guess. For now I am channeling my energy into staying “present in the present”. In this moment, I can feel pieces of my broken heart shifting closer together. Your Lala and Uncle Stephen’s unbelievable demonstration of support is the synergy behind this shift. Even if the pieces don’t ever completely converge, I am grateful beyond measure that five very big pieces of my heart are now merely a 15-minute drive away.

IMG_0301

Close those baby blues. Sleep sound. Worry not. We are going to be okay. You and me together…we can do anything, baby.

Here is your lullaby for tonight. It’s in honor of your “One”; your Lala.

I miss you. I love you.

Stay with me, Sweet Boy.

xoox,

Momma

Be Peaceful.

Sweetest Diddy,

An early morning trip to Target proved to be far more significant than Momma’s run-of-the-mill trips to Target. With only a few things to pick up, and a surplus of time to spare, I began to amble mindlessly through a store which, once upon a time, was as familiar to me as our backyard. Ultimately, I found myself in the middle of the “happy home” isle. I almost screamed out loud, (but didn’t – so don’t be embarrassed) when I found the candle I have been searching high and low for since last April. To the rest of the free world, it would seem there is nothing extraordinary about this candle. It is a typical Target something-or-other-brand aromatherapy candle. The name however, a bit more special, ‘Be Peaceful’…which is what compelled me to initially buy it. I found it on my first “away from home” trial in very early March. I wonder if it were exactly one year ago today? At any rate, I remember your Daddy making me leave the house without you in tow. He said I could go wherever I wanted, but that I had to be gone a minimum of twenty minutes. Prior to you becoming a part of my life, a twenty minute errand was nearly laughable, given my trademark ability to turn a five minute errand into a two hour escapade. Nonetheless, I took the challenge.

In lightening speed, I secured formula, a double pack of Dr. Brown’s bottles, and a tube of “Butt Paste” (recommended by Dr. D.). I turned to head home, but realized I had been gone about 7 minutes. I anxiously made a quick right turn down the “happy home” isle….where I spotted the ‘Be Peaceful’ candle. I instinctively, and giddily, added it to the must-haves-for-Paxton basket. Unwilling to suppress my angst of being away from you, away from my family, a minute longer – I headed to the Express checkout, paid for our stuff, and drove home…without stopping to look both ways. I burned that candle, almost daily, until approximately the middle of April. When I noticed it was almost gone, I began my search for another one. I checked multiple Target locations, Target online, and eBay; but was unable to find another one anywhere. Knowing it was ‘running’ low – and with no replacement in sight, I began to burn it more sparingly. Then May happened.

Finding the ‘Be Peaceful’ candle today, initially, seemed so very serendipitous. It is, after all, March 2nd. Today marks 8 months since I rubbed my lips across your perfect head and silky hair, held you against my chest as we slowly breathed in tandem, and felt the warmth of your gentle – but steadfast – fingers circled around my thumb. To my surprise, the more aroma that fills the room, the more sadness fills my heart. Our sense of smell is 10,000 times more sensitive than any other of the five senses. The recognition of smell is immediate. While other senses (touch and taste) must travel through the body via neurons and the spinal cord before reaching the brain: our olfactory response is immediate, extending directly to the brain. The emotional connections and the memories attached to a smell are always deeply personal; it seems a familiar smell is oft intrinsically enmeshed with the individual experience.

As the scent of the candle replaces the air in the room, I can almost teleport myself back to last year on this very day. Although smell is the strongest of the five sense, I can remember them all. I hear college basketball steadily as a fixture on our t.v. – but not too loud – because we were listening for the coo of your voice. I see you contently asleep, while swaddled (extra tight, like a cigar) in my arms, or in your bassinet – which we moved upstairs and downstairs depending on where “camp” was determined to be for the next several hours. I taste the sweet flavor of your formula, as I test a drop from my wrist to make sure it is just the right temperature. I feel the unabridged happiness, unexplainable contentment, (no doubt the newborn induced sleep deprivation); most importantly I feel the good, sweet love that filled every last inch of our home.

Needless to say, since ‘Be Peaceful’ has permeated throughout our home, the scent has evoked an unanticipated array of emotions. The sadness and yearning which have flooded my heart are not only due solely over the loss of you – but also over the loss the family who lived here – just last year. It does not seem plausible that the only thing that remains the same about our little family, about our quaint home, about our happily-ever-after … is the familiar scent of a candle.

Sweet boy, I do not know how all of this has happened. What I do know is that if I could fix even one part of it, I would…in a heartbeat, I would.

Momma. Alone.

I hope you are safe. I hope you are peaceful. Please be happy, little one.

Stay with me, Sweet Boy.

xoox
Momma