Sunday, June 14, 2009

Jason sat down to try and write the dedication page for the cook book tonight. Here are his might want to get a tissue before you start reading. We are both sitting here crying, longing for another moment with our precious little one.

August 2, 2008 is a day that I will remember for the rest of my life. The doctors were in sterile operating attire, my wife was prepped on an operating table, and the room was set for the arrival of a precious gift sent just for Rita and myself. With a simple incision and separation Eli was brought into this world. It was an amazing feeling. I was so excited. I did not know what to do; stay next to my wife; go look at my new son as he experienced his first moments in his life, or just stand there in awe. It seemed like he was pulled out of the empty air. I still remember the little push on Rita’s stomach the night before and wondering what Eli would be like. The decision was made for me. With a “you can go and look at you baby,” I was ushered to look at my son up close for the first time. He was simply beautiful even though they were still cleaning him up. Little perfectly formed fingers and toes, arms and legs flailing; he was perfect to me. Emotions rushed through my body. That was my son. JUST AMAZING. He was really here. Each motion he made seemed somehow exciting. We were taken to the nursery for cleaning and weights and measurements. I was just stunned while we were there. I stood with my arms behind my back just watching the nurse do her job. Finally she said I could touch him. The first touch was magic. A tiny hand clasped onto my finger. It was a simple reaction, but one that will never be forgotten. I stood there and it seemed like everything else disappeared. Nothing mattered; just me and my little Eli. Who knew that moment would be one of the greatest in my life; given to me by something that was here just a little short while, for on January 14, 2009, just 5 months after his arrival, Eli was taken away from Rita and me. I watched as my son drew in his last breath from this world. All life was stalled and my son was no more. No more clasps around my finger. No more smiles. No more giggles. No more life.


Lucy and Ethel said...

That's beautiful, Jason. It's easy to picture your first meeting with Eli, and your words remind us of the overwhelming awe we all experience (or SHOULD experience) when we see our own children for the first time.


Anonymous said...

Beautifully written, Jason. Thinking about you guys always.