the 3rd of my 5 pregnancies ended
in a late 2nd trimester miscarriage....
because it happened at home
i held the lifeless body of my son,
whom we named paul benjamin,
in the palm of my hand, marveling
at how, even so tiny and undeveloped,
resembled his older brother in facial features....
i literally was one month into my "bible study",
had buried a much beloved brother less than a year earlier...
and wanted desperately to believe these loved ones were
not lost to me for all time....
we buried paul at home, read psalm 20:1 over his tiny grave:
"may jehovah answer you in the day of your distress.
may the name of the god of jacob protect you"
my study conductor, an elder, learning of
this unfortunate turn of events said:
resurrection is for the nepesh, the breathers.....
his wife, later, kindly said..... no one knows for sure
he would be 19 this october.... but he died...
he is still a part of the family history... the kids
even those born after him call him baby paul...
i will remember him all the years of my life
his brother, conceived within 3 months
after paul died, will be 18 in may.... big as a house,
blue hair and a lip piercing, and one funny kid....
the older son, at 6 YO said to me: if baby paul
hadnt died, exxxxxxx wouldnt have been born....
out of the mouth of babes, eh?
life, of which death is a part, moves along,
regardless of the drivel from the GB....
shame on them for being so capricious
with the lives and loves of ordinary people
...OUTLAW