Learning to fly

When my little grandson Rocket died, I knew immediately what memorial I'd like for him. I contacted Danita at DanitaArt and she courageously made this painting for me to hang in my home to remind me of him every day. She gave him dreds because his Dad has dreds and he did have lots of wonderful wavy hair. She dressed him a white gown and gave him a white teddy bear because he had those in the hospital. And she gave him red booties because a friend of my daughter knit tiny red fuzzy booties for him. This painting makes me cry but it also brings me joy every day. Thank you, Danita.

Her title, "Learning to Fly" also reminds me that after the death of a loved one, a whole family needs to 'learn to fly' again. When Rocket died, grief struck me out of the sky, and for a while I lay still, stunned, on the ground like a fallen songbird. Yes, my life went on, but my soul was silent, earthbound as I thought through the unthinkable. A grandchild symbolizes the future and continuity. What does the death of the future mean?

After six weeks (it both seems like yesterday and ages ago,) the chorus of confusion and sadness no longer fills my thoughts completely. I see that the future isn't fixed on any one person or event. It's much bigger than any of us. Believing, as I do, that one can survive life's sorrows, I see I will go on, not in the same way, but on. To rise above this moment requires that I reassert my belief in life as a persistent miracle. To rise above requires me to be present to see, hear, touch, taste and smell life's richness. To rise above requires that I plant my toe firmly on the foundation of my beliefs and push off, while extending my wings fully to catch the comforting current of family and friends. This sounds like a moment, but of course, it's not. It is a series of smiles, tears, enlightenments, hugs, false starts and struggles. But in time, I believe, I'll look out beyond grief, and see that once again, I have learned to fly.

Learning to fly, originally uploaded by Danita Art.