Celebrating Keren’s life-day

Months ago the Dreamer said to me, “I’d like to do something special on the anniversary of losing Keren. Something that would celebrate her life, and all we’ve learned. Not a sad time, but a good time.” We brainstormed and it happened. A life-day celebration.

Sunshine blazes in the windows all across the back of the wide ranch, even though snowflakes are falling outside. It is bitter cold, but inside the warmth of celebration covers us all. An honorary auntie brings Mardi-gras beads and the Bear hands a bright string to each person as they arrive. “Cause Keren loved beads, you know.” Everyone comes bearing food and soon the kitchen counter is blanketed with a family-friendly brunch. By the time we all get there, I think there are 25 – family, friends, teachers, former classmates of Keren’s from Old Village.

There is no agenda except to talk and enjoy each other. With half of the guests under seven, it is not quiet – and that’s the point. Quiet solitude is for reflection but we are here to celebrate life.

Over in the big recliner the “other Poppa” holds court with the kids. Somehow he is a magnet for little people, and every one of the children seems to find his lap at some point. A year ago he and his wife came to help the day Keren died, friends in time of need. We were gone, but they were home. I can still picture him in his bright red sweater, following a little white casket born by young uncles. An honorary Poppa. By the end of the brunch he’s got the youngest child, a mere six weeks, draped over his shoulder, fast asleep.

I see the Engineer with the little guy who was Keren’s best school buddy. A year ago these two shared hugs and tears. Today they share smiles. The little guy’s wheelchair looks very familiar, and the Engineer keeps going back to touch what is familiar. At the end I see the Engineer carrying the small child out to his mom’s car, another flashback to the past.

The teachers circulate and talk. These women have all taught special needs children for 34 years. “Sometimes we realize we’ve got over 100 years experience in the classroom,” one quips. Listening to them I learn so much about how children communicate when they can’t speak. They are masters in lighting the match in each individual child. Conversations flow freely around the room as clusters change places.

A wave of small children dashes through the living room bent for the kitchen. Their very energy says life, and life is good. Looking forward, we find strength from the past year.

At the end of the time, a group gathers in the entryway. “We didn’t share what we learned this year,” the speech therapist says, reminding us of the Dreamer’s assignment to come with something to share that we learned this year.

“I’ll tell you what I learned,” she continues. “When we lose a child – and we lost three this year – the hardest thing is losing the whole family. Today was wonderful because we haven’t lost Keren’s family.”

“We’ll do this again,” the Dreamer promises. “There’s no reason to stop celebrating life-days.”