February the first

Twenty five years ago today an event occurred that very few of my everyday current circle of friends knows happened. My heart is usually worn on my sleeve, as the saying goes, and so not much about me is unknown. I am the type of person who wonders how people keep secrets or what the secrets could even be, since my life is rather an open book with only a couple of chapters I wish had been ripped out, rather than read. My life is blessed with people of all shapes and sizes, from several nationalities and races, young and old, opinionated and shy thrown together, all under the name of friend. To each friend I give unrestricted access of my heart.

That makes the day even more perplexing to me. The area of February 1, 1984 isn't a secret , just a wound. When I woke up this morning, 25 years forward in the passage of time, it was as if I had flashed back on a time machine and instantly felt that familiar stab of pain. The pain of loss, the pain of excruciating emptiness and shock. The pain of not thinking the world could possibly be turning on it's axle since mine was spinning out of control. That pain especially cruel in it's lonely factor, having lost my husband who experienced this event with me to a different catastrophic loss of his own choosing, in 2001.

Several days ago I had been pretty sure that the date would mean nothing to me this year. After all, I am in my 5Th decade of life and I had only been a young , immature 34 years of age then and had experienced much weariness of soul and mind already in my young life: the rejection of Brazilian relatives, the heart aches that come with living thousands of miles from family, a miscarriage, a husband working full time while going to graduate school full time as I cared for our 5 young children, living in the poverty half of the economic graph- things life hands you while you live it.

Daniel Mark Ribeiro stopped breathing and living while sleeping in his bed that night. He was 9 1/2 months of cuteness and sweetness. He was our 5Th baby, our unexpected gift while going to graduate school, our growth in grace. Danny was well loved and adored by his siblings and occupied a good portion of our time and life. He was handicapped,near-sighted to the point of near blindness and incredibly off track in developmental milestones. We had learned and used tracheotomy care, as he breathed through a hole in his neck, and he was fed through a nasal tube. The paraphernalia necessary for his daily care filled our station wagon where the other 4 kids were not sitting.

When he stopped breathing on February the first, those many years ago, friends rallied around in full support mode. He had made a quick and lasting impact on many people, Seminarians and neighbors alike. People gravitated to him before they turned to the 'normal' four children, hugging him, cooing and commenting on his brightness factor, his clever smile, his latest accomplishment. Our pediatrician drove to our home at 6:00 am to field the ambulance and coroner issues and stayed with us until the friend circle arrived. He had loved Danny as well.

Daniel was born on April 11, 1983 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to a single mom named Tracy, who had learning and emotional issues of her own. She had considered aborting him when she discovered he had flaws, but was convinced by the pro-life community that they would help her, and they did. However, when it was time for Danny to be placed from the hospital in the chosen home for him, the new parents couldn't handle the pressure of the unknown. They preferred a healthy child and so there he laid, snugly wrapped and screaming(that was one of his preferred methods of communicating)in his yellow cap. I have that cap, having just felt and smelled it again today.

Hearing that he was an undesired baby due to his handicaps infuriated my husband and I, [remember we were young and not tamed by maturity? ] so we drove that very afternoon for 6 hours to pick him up. We told the social worker we were pro-life, no matter how that played out.She gladly handed his screaming body to us, saying the paperwork would come the following week. Things have changed in that regard over the years, I am sure, but God's Hand of grace moved well in our favor.

Danny came home with us to his four siblings and there he planted himself until February 1st, the following year. Paul, Becca, Margie and Rachel all loved him thoroughly and completely, never even bothered that he was fed or breathed differently.

His loss was felt greatly by his brother and sisters as well as us. His memorial service was attended by many and his short life accomplished what many people never accomplish- making friends consider options for their own family planning methods, adoption and birth choices.

Time, with the gift of tears.

I feel better today, having blogged about my long ago and far away baby boy. I wish my current friends had known him and had the chance to even know me then, the young, spontaneous, foolish mother who knew that God can help us with anything. I am a little older, a little wiser, a little more outspoken and alot more in love with God and trusting Him more.

I loved Danny then and I miss him now. I am proudly pro-life and it colors every decision I make in politics and life. May God be merciful as our country continues to find people dispensable. The Old, as well as the youngest ones, are definitely valuable Keepers.