Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Time for 11 months, 11 things, 11 Everywhere...

Photo Image from "Katie the Scrapbook Lady" at
http://www.scrapbookladypages.com/, great site BTW.

I am not a superstitious person, nor is my husband. I've been reading quite a bit about the grieving journey and it seems that grief does make your senses more acute. The sun somehow shines with more intensity, the wind wraps you around like a blanket,  that butterfly or snail that I would have stepped on not too long ago... are now "signs" that my son is watching over us and sending us a reminder. Who knows?

Even before we met our boy, David and I would look at the time randomly and it would be 3:11, 5:11, 6:11... something 11. My husband jokingly quickly pointed how "random" that was, but the elevens kept coming every time that we looked at the clock randomly. We decided our boy's name on 09/11, and the day came and we met our son 01/11.

We have voice mails and blog posts left or published at guess what time... Yes, something 11. This number shows up everywhere: License plates, loose change, addresses, you name it. I still look at the time randomly and is still 8:11, 9:11...You get the pattern,  and I like to believe that for that little time frame, my son is here checking on us. David and I agreed to believe that, whether or not is truth, during that minute we say our son's name out loud, we talk to him, tell him how much we love him and how much we miss him. Sometimes I cry and ask him for forgiveness, for the times that I doubted him, the times that I was scared, or selfish even. Now I hope that the 11th minute doesn't catch me doing something too embarrassing (like a toilet moment)...or angry; is a reminder trough out  the day to focus on the larger picture, to keep my eyes on the prize, and to act as if my son was watching at all times, it keeps me in check and puts me back on track.

Today, you would have been 11 months. I decided to forget what are the 11 month old's supposed to be doing, but still, part of this stubborn brain keeps track of other children around your age. As ashamed I may be to admit, this hard head of mine is still comparing and is still trying to at least understand how when you see this kiddos you can feel  pain and joy at the same time. I still keep track of time, yours and mine. You would think that time will makes things easier, but it doesn't. I will always miss you and whisper your name on the 11th minute of any given hour until I die.

All I can do now, is enjoy the short sweet minute that you check on us.Our sweet secret code:
You lived, you mattered, your life had meaning and purpose, and we will always REMEMBER you.

I know that even if you were here, probably we would have been in a very different place than with any other 11 months old, and that kind of grief would have stayed, regardless. Today, in your honor, I will celebrate and miss the Zach that I indeed had: The one with the chubby cheeks, with the crooked finger and the little clubbed feet that we learned to love. I will miss YOU, not the child that never existed, but my sweet Zachary Owen, the one that changed our lives for good.

Happy 11 months son, I will meet you at the 11th minute of any given hour.

Photo Image from "Katie the Scrapbook Lady" at
http://www.scrapbookladypages.com/, great site BTW.


  1. Claris,
    Qué lindo, no sabes cómo me conmueve y cómo amo todos tus posts!! "un secret code en 11"!! oooiiiii, como dices, sea verdad o no es algo demasiado lindo.
    Me gusta sentir que te acompaño en lo que sientes cada día y, aunque no sé a quièn o a qué pedirle que te ayude a sobrellevar el duelo, lo que más deseo es que puedas encontrar la forma de estar bien y ser feliz.

    Siempre voy a querer y a extrañar a tu pumpkincito como le decías, como fue mientras estuvo con nosotros, cómo no hacerlo??


  2. You are wonderfully strong and inspiring Clara. You are so right. Every minute counts and matters and every life makes a difference to someone. I will be praying and thinking of you three in the elevens. I saved your birth announcement to keep me centered when times seem rough. Thank you for your words!
    Ms. Portrey (from Gilbert)


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