June 11, 2012. I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what I
was doing on that date 5 years ago. In fact, I dare to guess that many of you don’t
as well. It is nearly impossible for us to remember one day singled out of a
year, let alone one date singled out of several. It is even more impossible for
a child to recall events taking place on any particular day during any
particular year. I mean I can ask either of my boys what we ate for dinner two
nights ago and both will undoubtedly look back at me with blank stares. With
all that said, there are days that are singled out in our memories, moments we
can literally relive as deeply as when they occurred. I remember pieces of June
14, 2011 quite vividly. I was driving down the road in the backseat of our car
with my mother in law next to me, Jay and my father in law in the front seats.
We were headed out for birthday dinners, my husband and mother in law both
share the same day, as does Jays twin brother obviously. Jay took a phone call while driving down the
road. At first he asked if the caller was sick based on the tone of their
voice. The car became eerily silent and then suddenly he veered off the road
into someone’s yard (literally). He hung up the phone and turned around to face
me, “Ileah, your dad died”. I can still hear his words like he spoke them to me
yesterday and I can still see that look on his face. I remember getting out of the car, calling my
mother, and rehashing her day of finding my dad. I don’t remember much after
that, I remember being back in my apartment packing for a week I never wanted
to partake in, driving two hours to my childhood home, and walking in the dark
around my house to where several of my family had gathered on the back porch. Then
the day is gone. Every year though on June
14, while I try and put a smile on my face and celebrate the birthday of some
of my most favorite people, the sting of the memory from that day is still present
and I relive those moments in my mind again and again. I doubt it will ever
leave me, but at least I know why tears come and why I feel the ache that I do.
There is a clear reason and cause.
Through my research into abandoned children, I have learned
some amazing facts about our brains. It is quite an amazing organ in so many
ways but learning about early memories and how they are stored is just fascinating.
Research has shown that simply because things cant be recalled doesn’t mean
they are not remembered by the brain and body, particularly in young children
and even babies. There is something
called implicit memory which describes how all of a child’s memories are stored
before the age of 18 months. Implicit memories include things like emotions and
body sensations. What is even crazier than realizing that babies, even new born’s
have the innate ability to remember certain events and how they felt during
them is that these remembrances from very early on can and do come crashing
back into their minds and bodies sometimes on the exact date of their occurrences
even if a child has NO recollection of the event themselves. They show up in
behavior changes, mood swings, outbursts, sobbing uncontrollably, nightmares
ect.
So back to June 11, 2012. It now holds one of those places
in my memory which I will keep forever. I myself do not know what I was doing
on that date, but I know what one of children was. There is a small blurb in
Jude’s medical file that details his finding spot, the spot where he was found
after being abandoned by his birth parents. The date was, you guessed it June
11, 2012. He was three days old and likely dying from untreated conditions from
birth. I have a copy of the small piece of paper that was left with him with
his birthdate etched on it in one of his birth parents handwriting. I would like to think that his parents tried
for 3 days, but realized that he was just too sick. I like to think that they
placed him in the little park he was found in because they knew he would be
found quickly. I like to think that they watched as someone knelt down and
picked him up, rushing to get him medical attention but truth be told I will
never know. It is hard for us to think of leaving a newborn in a different room
from us after their birth, let alone all by themselves in a park. I always
wondered, would Jude have recollections of these events like research has
shown. Unfortunately, I wasn’t bright enough to realize that his whining, his
pouting, his tears on the anniversary of that day could have been from memories
he didn’t even know were there. Feelings of fright, coldness, suffocation, and
even death. That night as I rocked him to sleep, what would have been the early
morning hours of that day in China, he grimaced in his sleep, whimpered, tears
trickled down his cheek. He writhed in my arms, but he was in-between that
state of sleep and wakefulness. I held him extra tight, whispered in his ear “You
are loved, mommy is right here”. Then and only then did I realize the significance
of the date.
A part of me obviously wishes I could take those early
memories away. That Jude would forget what life was like before he had a family.
I wish I could take away the memories that make him sad, mad, scared. A part of
me wishes I too could forget my memories of profound grief, but as stated by
Laura Jack a grief recovery specialist, “Every loss deserves the honor of grief”.
Jude’s life in china mattered, his experiences, his feelings, his existence,
and interaction with everyone there, all mattered and to want to take away such
a huge part of him would be a dishonor to his life, just as wanting to forget
the day my dad died and the sadness of losing such an important part of myself
felt like would be a dishonor to my dad. Our boy is a warrior. He is a
survivor. In the midst of it all, he has chosen to thrive, to live, and have
hope in a better day. Isn't that what God calls us to do as well? To look beyond
our circumstances to something better. To trusting Him who makes good with all
the bad. This morning, June 12, Jude awoke
with a fresh smile on his face ready for a new day. He told me several times
before he left for school, “I love you Ma”. His LITTLE life continues to teach us
BIG lessons and though I usually dread the entire month of June, because of the
memories it drudges up, I am choosing to confront it, like Jude, with a fresh
smile and gratefulness instead.
