Ode to Cody, 18 years on…..

Today would have been my second son’s 18th birthday.

Sadly, he didn’t even make it to his first one.
Nor to the anniversary of his first month,
or week,
or day.

Some would say I should be “over it” by now.
But that’s just a load of bunkum!

Cody Luke was, and is, my son.

Cody's Grave

I just haven’t had the privilege of being a face to face mum with him.
Or the privilege of creating a lifetime of memories that include him.
I haven’t had the privilege of parenting him.

I haven’t had the privilege of helping him learn to
ride a bike,
tie his shoes,
or read a book.

I haven’t had the privilege of
playing with him,
hanging out with him,
bandaging his wounds,
enjoying life with him
or even wiping his nose.

I haven’t had the privilege of watching him grow up,
or watching him spread his wings and fly.

He spread his wings and flew away a long, long time ago.
I wasn’t even with him.

And my heart is still broken.

It beats, but it is different now.
And it always will be.

Did you know that hearts go on beating when they are broken?

I have learned to live with this brick in my pocket.
And that’s okay.

This is who I am.
This is my journey.

It isn’t raw like it was in the early days.

I can now look at another baby without being blinded by tears.
I can now – almost – watch a helicopter without feeling sick.
I can live an awesome life without feeling burdened by a weight of grief.
The brick doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
It feels familiar and simply part of me.

“Do babies grow up in heaven?” my daughter wants to know.
She thinks they probably do,
but I think maybe that’s not fair
because I want so desperately to hold my baby in my arms again.

I don’t know how things are in eternity, but I know this:
I miss my little-baby-come-big-grown-up-teenage-boy.

Whether I get to hold my baby in my arms again one day,
or whether I get to have a great big bear hug with an adult,
I know this one thing:

My faith in a life that goes beyond our final breath is my sanity in all of this.
It is the hope that has kept me …. hopeful.
It is the root of peace in my soul.

That – and the fact that I saw into his eyes.
So many do not get that beautiful privilege.

For Cody

Cody, you were so wanted.
So loved.
You are so grieved.

I still miss you!
I wonder how different life would have been if you hadn’t left so soon.

I would change so many things if I could,
hoping it might have led to a different outcome
but I would never change the decision to bring you into the world.

I like to think my experience of birth, loss and grief has made me
A better mum to your siblings,
A more compassionate person,
A voice of hope to those who suffer.

You have two other brothers and a sister now.
Only one of them met you, but they all know of you, and speak of you.
And this is such a comfort to me.

I am thankful for society’s newfound awareness of the need to
hold
grieve
photograph
and remember
our little babies who died too soon.

Today we had birthday cake in your memory.
I just wish you were here to blow out the candles.

I wonder how you would have celebrated your 18th birthday?

An 18th Birthday – Without the Birthday Boy

I woke up to this beautiful sight: my youngest one bringing me breakfast in bed (her idea) on her "big brother's" 18th Birthday
I woke up to this beautiful sight: my youngest one bringing me breakfast in bed (her idea) on her “big brother’s” 18th Birthday
Today I also had a sick girl which served as a reminder to live in the moment and be a mum to my living kids. I had walked into the lounge room and found her sitting there holding her sore throat. When I tried to take photos of the cute sad face, it turned into a bit of a giggle fest. Giggles and grief are part of the same package.
Today I also had a sick girl which served as a reminder to live in the moment and be a mum to my living kids. I had walked into the lounge room and found her sitting there holding her sore throat. When I tried to take photos of the cute sad face, it turned into a bit of a giggle fest. We also ended up having quite a few giggles throughout the day, as she was using a text-to-voice app to communicate, because her throat was sore. Anytime she wanted to speak, she would type her words into her iPod and this adult British MALE voice would speak on her behalf. It was highly amusing! **Giggles and grief are part of the same package.**
Life goes on! In the midst of a day of remembrance and reflection, there were picnic umbrellas to rescue from the storm, washing to get off the line when it rains, dishes to wash.....
Life goes on! In the midst of a day of remembrance and reflection, there was a picnic umbrella to rescue from the storm, washing to get off the line when it rained, dishes to wash….. Well, the dishes will probably still be there in the morning….
In the midst of it all, a moment to remember and reflect. Some years I spend hours of solitude doing this, other years less so. This year was one of the "less" years, but I feel like I wanted more. I am still pleased with other aspects of the day, though.
In the midst of it all, a moment to remember and reflect, to ponder, to browse through the objects that make up the entirety of his physical existence on earth. Some years I spend hours of solitude perusing his two memory boxes, other years not so much. This was one of the “not-so-much” years, but I feel like I wanted more. I am still pleased with other aspects of the day, though.
It's an odd coincidence, but only yesterday we bought a little remote control helicopter, and it just so happens that helicopters are a sensitive issue for me, being as Cody was airlifted by helicopter just before he died. Today my daughter helped to reframe the issue for me, sending me a little love note by helicopter!
It’s an odd coincidence, but only yesterday we bought a little remote control helicopter, and it just so happens that helicopters are a sensitive issue for me, being as Cody was airlifted by one just before he died. Today my daughter helped to reframe the issue for me, sending me a little love note by helicopter!
Next up was birthday cake making time! This is a tradition I started from the very first anniversary. It was cathartic (and poignant) then, and has continued to be so ever since.
Next up was birthday cake making time! This is a tradition I started from the very first anniversary. It was cathartic (and poignant) then, and has continued to be so ever since.
Next up was dinner out as a family, to "celebrate" Cody's 18th birthday. It was a strange thing to do in some ways, and highlighted the fact he wasn't with us, but it also felt good to at least do something nice. We were sad to also have our youngest son absent, because he is away on camp. Good food, good conversation and sadness all mixed up together.....
Next up was dinner out as a family, to “celebrate” Cody’s 18th birthday. It was a strange thing to do in some ways, and highlighted the fact he wasn’t with us, but it also felt good to at least do something nice. We were sad to also have our youngest son absent, because he is away on camp. Good food, good conversation and sadness all mixed up together…..
Lighting the candles on Cody's cake was surprisingly fun! Brady did a stellar job it, only to have someone fly our new remote control helicopter right above the cake, which caused the breeze from the helicopter to extinguish the candles! It was pretty funny and we all needed the laugh. More laughs were had when the family effort at blowing the candles out had far less impact that the tiny little helicopter had!
Lighting the candles on Cody’s cake was surprisingly fun! Brady did a stellar job it, only to have someone fly our new remote control helicopter right above the cake, which caused the breeze from the helicopter to extinguish the candles! It was pretty funny and we all needed the laugh. More laughs were had when the family effort at blowing the candles out had far less impact that the tiny little helicopter had!

I’ll finish off with how our night finished off: having a bit of fun with our new toy! That which was once a source of pain and despair, has today become a source of fun and laughter.

Well, a milestone has come …. and gone.
Which is pretty much how grief is, I guess.
The hard days come, but the hard days also go.
And even in the midst of sadness and grief,
there can be laughter and good times.

It is not a black and white, linear process.
It is a black, white, grey, and sometimes multi-coloured
swirling sea with patches of calm, great depths,
and sometimes wild, crashing waves.

In a way, Cody’s birth and death feel like yesterday,
and in another way it is as though it happened to someone else,
or in a different lifetime.

The end result is, the loss never goes away,
the hole is always there.
But you get used to living with it.
Like a hole in a favourite pair of jeans
The hole moves with the fabric and adds character.

You move on with life, living differently than how you did before.
Your perspective on what matters is different, for the better!
You don’t stay the same as how you were;
hopefully you become more gracious, empathic and understanding.

Pain can be a pathway to peace;
the kind of peace that is not dependent on good times,
or happy circumstances;
the kind of peace that is a constant uncurrent beneath the storms of life.

To those who grieve,
You will be okay.
I will be okay.
I AM okay.

Published by

Karen Lee

FAMILY: Married since 1989 (does that make me old?), a full-time Mum since 1993, and unschooling my kids since 2005. On a journey of learning to live free and fully loved as God intended, following Jesus rather than an institution or "religion". Caring for the world and its people as best as I can.