Monday, January 29, 2007

I keep coming back to my friends

I tried to pay attention in church on Sunday, but this was all I had.

Having a Terminal Child

I woke up again today
But as for why, I couldn't say
And when they ask me how I feel
I just have to lie

None of this is real to me
It never was, I'll never see
And when they ask me why it's so
I just say "because"

Yes, my child, you go to die
So I must fear each lullaby
As if each word might be the last
I sing in your ear

Still I sing, the past is long
There is still time for one more song
And if you lack for anything
I will stroke your hair

I will kiss your cheek
I will hold you close
I will keep you warm
I will breathe you in

I will give you strength
I will hear your sigh
I will love your life
I will close your eyes

2 comments:

Tina said...

My heart shatters. I've been thinking about lil' Olivia so much. I've not seen her pretty face, but I think being pregnant (4 months), having lost a child to early birth, and having 3 children in my arms, knowing what joy children can bring and what sudden, breath taking, fear and sadness the idea of loosing one can do to you, that I can't help thinking about her.
It's almost like you are on the verge of loosing one yourself.

It's unfair too, I told Jon that last night. Doctors just aren't suppose to tell you "sorry we can't do anything" They are suppose to at least try, and by trying make it all okay and better. Some boo-boo's can't be kissed away, and that just isn't fair.

I'm not sure it says anywhere that we serve a God that's fair. I'm not sure it would help if it did.

Mourning and praying, praying and mourning. One becomes the other.

You mentioned in your one post that they have 3 small children at home. I know about the twins, but is Olivia their next child or do they have 4 counting her?

When Mike was a baby, and we had the outlook of possible eye surgery for him (God healed him of this thankfully) I used to sing him a modified song from Les Mis.

Don't you fret, little Michael, You won't feel any pain. A little drop of rain, could hardly hurt you now. I'm here, that's all you need to know. And I will keep you close, and I will keep you warm, and rain will make the flowers grow. The rain that brought you here, is heaven blessed. The clouds disappear and you're at rest, a breath away from where we are, I'll take you home, my little star....

Dan Lewis said...

Thank you, Tina. In a way it was an easy poem to write because I could imagine my Alex in Olivia's place. Fiction is truer than truth.

The Swanks' oldest child is Audrey. I can't remember her birthdate for the life of me, but I think she is 4, plus or minus.

I'm glad we can mourn together and pray together. And shout at God too, that is definitely on the list for me.