Thursday, January 1, 2009

Guest Post by Ezra's Daddy: I Wanted To Cut My Son's Hair

Ezra's Mommy asked me if I'd like to guest blog, and I am honored and very grateful for her offer. Four months have passed since Little Peanut Boy's death and birth. His spirit is right next to me as I write this entry, his photo on my desk, and he was actually the one who asked me, in his own way, to write about this at this time. The funny thing about grief to me (funny in an odd way, not a humorous way) is that at any given moment, without warning, the weight of the sadness hits me like a ton of bricks. The sadness is always there, just below the surface, and won't go away. But sometimes a song, or a memory, or a thought or vision will trigger this flood of tears and heaviness of heart, even if only for a moment.Sometimes the vivid memories of my time with Ezra will trigger my sadness, such as the long conversations I had with him when he was inside his Mommy, which caused him to kick excitedly. Then there was the time I held him, with that little half-smile on his face. That was the first time I stared into the face of God. Sometimes the vivid thoughts of things that did not happen will make me sad, like carrying him in a baby sling to the store, or taking him to the movies and for ice cream, or going to Disney World.

Or giving him a haircut.

The hospital gave us a memory box that included a lock of his hair. His hair is black, thick and curly, kinda like his Daddy's, or at least when his Daddy had hair! In his photo, his little white cap is covering it, but we saw his hair up close and in person. I've had these vivid thoughts, almost like memories, of sitting a 4 or 5 year old Peanut Boy at the table, and trimming his impressively large, wavy, beautiful fro. With electric barbershop clippers, like the one my mother used when she cut my hair years ago in a previous century, long before PCs, the internet, email and blogs. These haircut sessions were functional and practical (I needed it), but they also served another purpose—they helped to solidify the bonds between parent and child. Of course, you can't forget the barber's bib, don't want to get the hair clippings all over the boy's shirt, do you? And have the mirror handy. I dunno, maybe you had to be there.


bebou said...

Ezra has such loving thoughtful parents.

I'm sorry you will never get to cut Ezra's hair.


CLC said...

There's so many layers of loss, no wonder most people can't fathom it. I am sorry you won't get to do this for Ezra.

Dani819 said...

For me it's dancing with my son in the living room and watching his daddy give him piano lessons. I am so sorry you won't get to do this for Ezra- what a wonderful Daddy he has.

Hope's Mama said...

Sometimes, it is the little things isn't it? A haircut, teaching them to ride a bike, playing in the mud. I wish we could have done this, and so much more, with our children. Nice to have your voice here David.

Lani said...

chris thinks of future things also that he won't ever get to do with silas. i think of all the things i am not doing now in the present.

i started as a guest blogger on elm city dad and now have been writing at least once a week. i love the male/female perspective. its mostly the mom voices out there- its important hearing the dad's pov too. thanks for sharing your thoughts david.

lots of love to you both right now-

c. said...

It's lovely to hear about this experience through a father's eyes. Thank you for posting.

I'm very sorry you'll never experience sitting Ezra at the table and cutting his beautiful 'fro. I wish we could make more sense of this sometimes as it might help to heal our hearts, even a little. And yet I know there is no sense that we can make of this at all. Ever.

Rach said...

Ezra has the most wonderful, loving parents. I am sorry that you never got to cut that beautiful hair.

There are so many things that we will never get to do - Alice will never get to play with her sister Minnie, who spoke to her through my tummy and so longed for a little sister. Alice wll never get to sleep at my breast...

Thank you for writing so beautifully.


Liora said...

It's an honor to read your words. May Ezra's memory be for a blessing. We are so sorry for your loss. Liora (friend of Aliza, Lev's mama)

Anonymous said...

it's good to hear your voice, ezra's daddy. good to hear from the daddy's out there. i can picture you and ezra hanging out, bonding, hair cutting. i'm sorry that we don't get to have our futures with our sons, or our present. yesterday i went to dairy queen and thought of how my dad used to take me there and how i wanted to take take lev there. for a treat, a sugary unhealthy fun treat. we have been denied all those times with our sons. thinking about you and ezra.