I hurt because I love

Dear Leo,

I know so many people who have lost a loved one this year. 2013 has been a tough one for many. Today, after speaking to a good friend of mine who recently lost her aunt to cancer, I started thinking more deeply about death.

We all know that our lives will end. We all know that death doesn't spare any of us. Yet, when it happens, it is so difficult to accept it. We are sometimes surprised, even though we knew it was bound to happen eventually. We are often angry, saddened, broken. If death means you finally go to heaven, then it's a blessing for the person who passed away. But it is incredibly harsh, painful, unfair for those of us who have to stay on earth and live on.

What I realized today is that death is only painful because of love. If I didn't love you so deeply, so truly, so earnestly, your absence wouldn't hurt me as much as it does right now. Love is a beautiful thing. It grows, it flourishes and it persists. It knows no boundaries. Isn't it simply amazing that so many people love you so much, even though you've only lived for one hour? Even though many have never met you? Isn't it simply amazing that I love you more every single day that goes by, even though you're not here with me?

I am still struggling with your death. It's still very difficult for me to say the words "my baby died". It pains me to know that I'm a mother with no baby, that I came home from the hospital with empty arms. But it only hurts because I love you so much. And that, in a way, is the most beautiful thing of all.

Running away doesn't stop the pain

Dear Leo,

Before you were born, your father and I had planned a trip to Hawaii in December; I would have been 6 months pregnant by then. Many of our friends asked if that was our 'baby moon'. I guess you could call it that - the last trip before our lives are completely changed by your presence. Instead, it became the first trip after our lives were completely changed by your absence.

We did end up going to Hawaii and we took your ashes with us. Not exactly what I had in mind for a baby moon....Although during the whole trip I was thinking how everything seemed to happen in a timely manner. You were born and passed away in late October. The weeks between then and our trip to Hawaii were tough. But I have to say, that running away to a paradise like Hawaii did wonders to us. It was wonderful to just focus on enjoying life, spending so much time with your dad, soaking the sun, lying on the beach, being active. I must confess that at times, I even forgot the nightmare we're living and that was wonderful.

Your ashes wrapped in banana
leaves and decorated with Hawaiian flowers

We spread your ashes in a sacred river in Kauai called the Wailua River (the world wailua means 'two waters' in Hawaiian). We had a ceremony by the beach at sunrise. We put your ashes on banana leaves, placed flowers all around it, wrapped it up, lit a flame right on top of the banana leaf and placed it in the water, right where the river meets the Pacific ocean. It was beautiful Leo. It was so serene, peaceful, meaningful. We watched the river take you, then we watch the ocean take you. Your ashes rode the waves and headed east. We watched until we couldn't see the burning flame anymore.

As I look back, it seems like the whole purpose of the trip was to have your ashes spread there, in the Wailua river. I'm not sure if God planned it this way...did God know that shortly after losing you, we would need to run away? Did he know that Kauai would be the place to spread your ashes? Did he plan it all knowing that Kauai has a temple that is very meaningful to your dad?

It did feel like the trip healed us...but coming back home was harsh. As soon as I came back, so did the sorrow, so did the pain, so did the tears.

Your dad and I watching the waves take
your ashes away.