gryffinwaynesenialeffew

[gryffinwaynesenialeffew]

In remembrance of my sweet nephew, Gryffin Wayne-Senia Leffew

There is nothing more precious than innocent life, not yet attuned to the woes of the world. I knew this the first time I saw Gryffin, for I could do nothing more than smile. His sweet knobby chin and freshly fuzzy ears. I remember looking at his perfect little hands and feet, I exclaimed, “Do their nails just come out like that?!”

There is something to be said about what happens to a person when they look into the face of a child. This encounter enables one to pump the breaks and slow down from their busy lives, to feel a shared peace. It is as if just by being in the presence of such purity, we too, are gifted a fresh, clean slate.

We know it to be true that when a parent becomes a parent, and has a child of their own, it is not merely their body that undergoes a drastic change.

Just as a woman’s womb expands naturally to allow space for their new love to grow, there too grows a womb that exists in our hearts. It pushes aside “me”, to make room for “us”. It forms like a wellspring that overflows from a monsoon like down-pour of intuitive emotion, a gift of understanding. 

My mother once said that when she became pregnant with me, she felt a certain fear. She experienced such a unique love for my sister, she wondered if it could be possible to love another being in the same way. When I was born, the anxiety absolved itself. Her love naturally arose, for it was innately present all long.

It wasn’t until many years later, that my sister and I would both move away from home, and leave her heart-womb feeling vacant. This is the “empty-nest” we often read about on the cover of self-help magazines. 

Last year, a family of Robins built themselves a cozy home above my fathers porch light. We watched them change significantly from one day to the next. Their fluffy feathers eventually solidified with strength, in preparation of departure. One morning we came outside to find their nest empty. Just a few steps away, we discovered a baby bird, not yet ready to fly the coop. We did our best to provide food and shelter, but sadly our little friend did not make it. We pouted our lips at one another and held a burial in the yard. 

The forces of nature can be astoundingly beautiful, while at the same time relentlessly brutal. Some nests are born empty through infertility, but it is impossible to deny that all nests eventually become empty. It is because we do not have control over these forces that we find ourselves feeling powerless in the face of tragedy.

That must serve as an explanation for why every consolation is prefaced with, “There is nothing anyone can say…”

YOU.   ARE.   RIGHT.

The human language does not contain the words to describe this depth of pain. A heart-womb is not a wound that can be healed. There will forever remain a space in the core of Lindsay and Bobby (and anyone who was lucky enough to be graced by Gryffin’s presence) that exists only for our sweet boy. It overflows endlessly. He lives on within our heart, mind, and body.

There was a moment that stood out to me within these troubled times, that I would like to share with you.

Lindsay and Bobby were sitting on the glider in the backyard, by the fire-pit. I went out to join them, but it wasn’t long before I started to feel a couple of drops of rain upon my shoulders. I asked them if they too, had felt it. When they said no, I looked up to see a tree branch hanging just above their heads, protecting them from the drizzle. I got up to go inside and soon after, torrential downpour hit. Bobby’s brother Ted ran an umbrella out to the lovers. And we watched on the patio, as they weathered the storm, side by side, huddled together.

In that moment, I could visibly see that it was impossible for us to protect the two of them from the elements of this world. We couldn’t stop the rain if we tried, we can’t bring Gryffin back, though we would give anything to. All that is in our control was to try our best to provide them the tools to endure the whirlwind by each other’s side. 

On behalf of my family,

Thank you, in whatever way you have, for being our umbrella. 

Thank you for being respectful of the sensitive nature of our loss and allowing us the time and space to establish a solid familial foundation for their support system to flourish. Your demonstrations of love have been a crucial component in building the beams that are holding up our home. 

The role you play in our lives is profoundly felt and deeply appreciated.

Although the storm I previously mentioned has long passed, we still spend our days, like Eeyore, with a little black rain cloud over our heads. But we can learn a thing or two from that somberly stuffed donkey.

He once said, “The nicest thing about the rain, is that it always stops, eventually.”

One storm may pass while another brews in the distance. Life keeps spinning its wheels, especially when we don’t want it to. But I would claim that the “calm before the storm” doesn’t actually exist. There are the storms and the pauses between them. It is in these spaces that we find our solace.

We invite you now to join us in this process, in a more intimate way. Help us to fill the spaces with your smiles, which we love, jokes that are yet to be laughed at, and hugs to brighten the inevitable gloom.

If you feel so inclined, please contact us through text.