Thursday, July 28, 2011

Superstitious Mama

    I hate the fact that I'm superstitious in a bad way.  I never think something good will happen to me.  Like the time I won first prize in the sewing fair, I never thought, Oh, I should use that same thread because it will help me win next year.  NO.  I'm only superstitious about bad things.  
    Like right before we found out Zeke had problems and would probably die, Cade and I laughed on the phone.  "We're having a boy!" I said.  "I've never been happier."
    "I agree," Cade said.  "We'll have a girl and a boy.  I don't think I've ever been this happy either."
    The next day, the doctor told me Zeke would probably die in the womb or shortly after birth.  I rested on the floor in his baby room.  I hugged some damn blanket I thought he'd love and I cried myself to sleep. 
    I know it's silly, but I'll never say that phrase again.  Uttering, "I've never been happier," is like asking nature to strike you with lightning.  It's just something you shouldn't do unless you like extensive heat.  
    Word of the wise, even if you've never been happier, don't say it aloud--don't jinx it!  
    The rest of my kids are still with me because what I say now is, "Wow, life is good, but it's not lightning worthy."  And that's kept me trauma free!

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    You might think I'm nuts.  Hell, other posts might have made you think that before.  
    Like when I posed on a toilet . . .


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Went Sky Diving . . . 
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Filled an invisible car with gas
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    The point is that even though I don't say it aloud, I guess writing it might be okay.  Life is pretty damn good.  I'm not saying it's perfect, but it's how you see it.  I know today isn't a special day as far as Zeke goes, but I've been thinking about him.  When you lose a child, sometimes memories of them just hit.  You might be healed of certain things, but you still miss your baby.
    I keep thinking of this excerpt from my journal, "The Golden Sky."

    Jane (Zeke's nurse) took care of him when I got there. She's almost always there. I joked around, and said, “Woman! How in the hell are you, you good looking thing?”
    She gave me “the eye” then. Maybe she's been taking lessons from Cade. I think she suppressed a smile, but after a moment her serious demeanor conquered her resolve.
    “Elisa,” she said, “you need to wake up and realize what's going on around you.” She cleared her throat. “Your son is very sick, and you don't seem to be accepting reality.” Her eyes caught mine, and she peered at me steadily. “Why are you so happy all the time?”
    “I'm just happy he's still here,” I whispered. “As long as he's still alive,” I paused, suddenly sad in the moment, “there's hope.”
    She looked at me differently then, and sighed as if she was sorry for making me sad. “You're one of the strongest people I've ever met,” she said, and then filled the syringe she held in her hand, “and I've met a lot of people in here.” 

    Maybe that nurse thought I was strong, but I was just trying to be tough for my baby.  As long as I smiled and gave him all the love I could, I felt like his life wouldn't be quite so bad.

    Something triggered all these memories.  It might sound like a silly trigger, but it happened none-the-less.  You see, I have weird things happen to me.  Zeke was born on the same day Cade and I got married up in the mountains by that online minister.   
Here's that link:Rock Canyon (Entry 20)
    My uncle died in August.  My grandma died in August.  I found out my dad had colon cancer . . . in August.  That my son would die . . . in August.  August, it's not all it's cracked up to be.
    Zeke died, then we had a rainbow baby boy (The Zombie Elf) on Cade's birthday.  We had a rainbow baby girl (Doctor Jones) thirty minutes before my birthday.
    Anyway, there are some crazy things that have happened.  Those are only a few.
    So, the day before my grandpa fell off a roof, his cell dialed my mom at 10pm.  He'd just butt dialed her.  And we both thought it was strange until the next day when he fell off a roof.
    The reason I'm so freaked out today is because my grandpa butt dialed my mom on July 26th.  He fell from the roof July 27th and died on July 30th.  Well . . . guess who butt dialed me at 9:30 last night!  MY DAD!  Yesterday was July 27th (the day my grandpa fell from the roof).  I know you're telling me to calm down, but I'm freaked out. I stayed up praying last night.  I called my dad today and told him to be safe!
    I know you probably think it's just crazy odds, or maybe it was a reminder of my grandpa's amazing life . . .
    Anyway, freaky.   

    Do you have this kind of thing happen to you?