Friday, August 9, 2013

The grace of letting go

Sawyer passed away yesterday. He was 18 days old. I never got to meet him.

But a friend, who I only know through Facebook, is friends with Sawyer's family, and she asked us to pray for him. And sometimes I feel like my prayers aren't eloquent enough or powerful enough. I have a feeling that I should strengthen my prayer muscle (that's my heart, right?) more, so that when the big guns are needed, like in this case with Baby Sawyer, that I can swoop down with my Spiritual Strength and make everything better (wait, that's not my job, that's Spirit's job, isn't it?).

I wrote to Sawyer telling him of everything he should stick around for:

Dear Sawyer, I don't know you. And your picture is sweeter than anything. And here's what I have to say to you. If I could be there in the hospital with you, giving your family a break, I would hold you fiercely, but gently, I would sing to you with my okay voice, songs that make me happy and dance-y (katy perry seems too topical, but sometimes it's perfect music)...and when no one was looking, I would dance with you too, so you could get in touch with your rhythm and feel the beat inside your own heart. I would tell you about the stuff that's worth seeing (Grand Canyon, Eiffel Tower, and the Scottish Highlands) so you would know that it's worth fighting for. I would tell you about all the weird things that have happened to me and how I have made them part of my life, how they have made me stronger, and how I am able to share with others so they too can feel like they belong here. I would tell you that you belong here. I know you have it in you. I know that your spirit is strong strong strong. I join you today, in your room, dancing to Katy Perry, and sharing all the beautiful things in life that make it worthwhile.

But Sawyer did not survive, despite a very strong fight. His passing is heartbreaking. I cannot imagine what it is to lose a child. I can barely say goodbye to K, which I do EVERYDAY, when he is cared for by others. My heart is aching.

And then I read what Sawyer's mom wrote:

"I am not mad at God. I am only hurting. We will never understand here on earth. I thank God for all his blessings and will always give him the Glory. Sawyer was used to touch so many people and all the praying that went on was just so amazing. Thank you everyone for each time you prayed. God has his plan and I am his child therefore I Will hold my child again."

I am humbled. Sawyer lived 18 whole days, and never met most of the hundreds of people who now know him, and in that short time, all those people turned to Spirit/God. If ever there was an act to be most proud of or most concerned with, it's helping people turn to Spirit, in my opinion. And Sawyer's short life was not without Depth. He reached me. Me, who has a hard time praying, a hard time listening to the news, and an extremely hard time hearing about death. And I turned to God. My prayer wasn't elaborate or eloquent, I just asked to one day meet Sawyer in person. I won't meet him physically, but I have already met Sawyer's spirit, and that was transformational all on its own.

Letting go is immense. It's a huge thing, that is done over and over and over again. Letting go is best friends with change. I can't control either of them. They just happen.

I am grateful for the chance to be in Sawyer's life, however short, as well as a witness to his family's amazing grace.

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