Carry On My Wayward Son

Carry On My Wayward Son
There'll Be Peace When You Are Done
Lay Your Weary Head To Rest
Don't You Cry No More

This morning I awoke with this song in my head,
I'm not sure why,
Humming just the melody,
I didn't quite know the lyrics
Other than the first line
Which really says it all.

Carry on my wayward son,
I sang in the shower,
on my way to work,
and at my desk.
Both letting my son go,
and calling him home.

I'm learning to understand that contrasts,
even polar opposites,
can exist in the same place.
Like the joy I held being pregnant with Ezra,
And the despair I hold with him not here.
There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

And then at lunchtime,
I was called to the conference room,
and presented with a gift.
Not a gift for me, not really.
A gift for my wayward son, my Ezra.
It was Ezra's blanket.


And I promptly burst into tears.
As my heart filled with joy.
The contrasts ever present.
As I took in the beauty of the blanket's hand-knit coziness,
That Ezra will never know.
Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

There is a tradition in my office,
Each person knits a square in a different pattern,
And they are all sewn together,
Enveloping the new baby with the love of our office family.
I have knit squares for others' babies,
Hoping that one day squares would be knit for mine.

When Ezra died,
I knew that there were likely two blankets being made for him.
I asked if I could have one with which to bury him,
And since this collective one wasn't yet done,
I was told I would get it to keep with me.
I've wondered about it these past 5 months,
But didn't feel I could ask.
I can't imagine how it must have felt,
To finish a blanket for a dead baby.


I am practicing the idea,
That grief can turn to gratitude.
That in my despair,
I can come to appreciate that which is important so much more.
To appreciate special moments
Of life
Of love
Of beauty


Of course I'd much rather have my son,
In my arms,
Where he belongs.
But in his absence,
I am learning to appreciate what I have.


It is a blessing that I have such special people in my life,
Who held Ezra with love when he was alive,
And hold Ezra in love now that he is gone.
Oh my wayward son...
Don't You Cry No More