Baby Ben would be over 7 years old by now?!
Know what's hard? The death of a child.
NO, NONE OF MY KIDS DIED. Or anyone recently. But seven years ago today, my mom and aunt's best friend from high school, Mary, had a baby named Ben. And he died. I think he was 3 - 5 months old. I don't remember exactly. When he was born, there was something really wrong with his heart. I want to say half his heart either wasn't formed, or didn't exist. So he went through multiple surgeries to re-route arteries and veins to supply blood for him. Other things were wrong with his digestive system too. Because he had a feeding tube... I don't think he didn't ever NOT have one. It was a tiny yellow tube that went up through his nose. He also had a bag. Which is odd to see on a baby, since they tend to have gas... his would fill up like a balloon. At the time, we all laughed about it.
We (mom, me, aunt jenni, alex and erich) were over there ALL THE TIME. Like, we'd visit at least once a week, typically more. Mainly we were there to give Mary a break. We'd hold Ben (ahh we LOVED TO HOLD HIM!) and my mom and aunt would change his bag, and the kids would occupy Max, Mary's two and a half year old son. He was obsessed with me... like, we're going on a date to Pizza Hut and get married in two years. So playing with him was EAAAASY! Not gonna lie, Ben was the best baby I've ever encountered (and I've worked in 2 day cares for three years. I've dealt with a lot of babies.) He rarely cried, and was always happy. Plus, how fucking tough was he?! All the shit he endured for his entire life? Holy shit the government should give out medals for babies put through such pain. He'd sleep a lot - we have a picture of me holding him while he was sleeping. His hand is clenched on my 'Twister' t-shirt.
Somehow his health went downhill very fast. He was decent and stable for most of his life, although he had a nurse check in on him... at least a few times a week. We knew it was coming, and I think I remember my mom telling me they took him off all machines and the feeding tube for his last hours (and I believe he was actually awake), which is so nice. Although I'd be the one screaming "HE'LL MAKE IT. DON'T GO THAT FAR YET!" But he wasn't given much of a chance of survival at his birth, and to be honest, I think his death was almost expected. Unavoidable.
A baby's funeral. I'd never been to one. Never been to one since. I was 17. Me and my cousins, Alex and Erich, actually didn't go to his actual funeral. I'm pretty sure children weren't allowed to go. And it's probably because of this: Mom came home with a picture of Mary holding Ben and I asked if he was dead when this was taken, because he looked odd in it, which she replied 'yes.' Even now, I cannot imagine touching what was once living that's been dead for over a minute. Let alone holding. My mom also said everyone at the funeral got to hold his hand, which scared me again. But she said it wasn't cold, it was warm because everyone held it for so long. 9 months after his funeral, my dog Sadie, was put down and I remember her going rigid while I held and petted her paw... okay I'm tearing up, moving on.
Ben's burial was so different. First it was a LONG way away and that cemetery is probably over a thousand acres in area. We waited in our cars for a long time. And then we got out and walked to his site. From what I remember seeing, there weren't other plots around him. (Mary and her husband have... MONEY to say the least) And me and my cousins stood in the back while these flying ants were EVERYWHERE. Trying to be respectful yet terrified of the attacking bugs was hard to balance. It was normal, like a funeral, except people kept talking about how hard, unbelievable and tragic it is for God to take away a baby. When they brought his casket over........... oh my god. It was literally two feet long. Probably less.
I started crying. The few funerals I'd been to before Ben's dealt with adults, namely old adults. It blew me away. Then, people would go up, single file and say something to Mary and Ben and then get out of the way for everyone else. I was with Alex and the closer we got to Mary and Ben, the more I cried and something so shocking happened that I still almost can't believe it happened. Alex cried. Alex was 15 at that time, almost 16. Alex is tough. He doesn't speak, especially to girls. I think I'm the only exception to that. I hadn't ever seen him cry about something that was sad (he used to make fun of me when I'd cry at a sad part during a movie.) So we said stuff to Mary, mumbling through it all and left. I don't remember anything that we talked about. Then there was a celebration of life (have these 'parties' always existed after funerals? Because I don't remember great-grandma having one when I was 7, and I've only heard of them recently) That was cool, mainly because us kids played with Max the whole time.
Then it was a few days later. My mom was thinking of Ben and she was watering the plants outside. And this butterfly came and landed on her. And she swished it away, but it came back. It kept coming back. My mom told my aunt and she started having butterfly experiences too. Both had strange ones where the butterfly would come and sit for a while on them. Or just fly around, especially when they thought about Ben. So, my aunt told Mary about it over the phone saying,
"Mary, we think Ben communicates as a butterfly." Mary started bawling on the phone. My aunt asked what was wrong.
"Just when you said that, a butterfly came and landed on the window."
Thus, Ben inhabits every butterfly that flies around Cincinnati. And every time we see one (which is every day, since my mom planted butterfly bushes after the encounter) we say 'hi' to Ben. Pretty cool huh! God still kinda sucks for making Ben go through all that crap though. He has some 'splainin' to do. RIP Baby Ben!!!
NO, NONE OF MY KIDS DIED. Or anyone recently. But seven years ago today, my mom and aunt's best friend from high school, Mary, had a baby named Ben. And he died. I think he was 3 - 5 months old. I don't remember exactly. When he was born, there was something really wrong with his heart. I want to say half his heart either wasn't formed, or didn't exist. So he went through multiple surgeries to re-route arteries and veins to supply blood for him. Other things were wrong with his digestive system too. Because he had a feeding tube... I don't think he didn't ever NOT have one. It was a tiny yellow tube that went up through his nose. He also had a bag. Which is odd to see on a baby, since they tend to have gas... his would fill up like a balloon. At the time, we all laughed about it.
We (mom, me, aunt jenni, alex and erich) were over there ALL THE TIME. Like, we'd visit at least once a week, typically more. Mainly we were there to give Mary a break. We'd hold Ben (ahh we LOVED TO HOLD HIM!) and my mom and aunt would change his bag, and the kids would occupy Max, Mary's two and a half year old son. He was obsessed with me... like, we're going on a date to Pizza Hut and get married in two years. So playing with him was EAAAASY! Not gonna lie, Ben was the best baby I've ever encountered (and I've worked in 2 day cares for three years. I've dealt with a lot of babies.) He rarely cried, and was always happy. Plus, how fucking tough was he?! All the shit he endured for his entire life? Holy shit the government should give out medals for babies put through such pain. He'd sleep a lot - we have a picture of me holding him while he was sleeping. His hand is clenched on my 'Twister' t-shirt.
Somehow his health went downhill very fast. He was decent and stable for most of his life, although he had a nurse check in on him... at least a few times a week. We knew it was coming, and I think I remember my mom telling me they took him off all machines and the feeding tube for his last hours (and I believe he was actually awake), which is so nice. Although I'd be the one screaming "HE'LL MAKE IT. DON'T GO THAT FAR YET!" But he wasn't given much of a chance of survival at his birth, and to be honest, I think his death was almost expected. Unavoidable.
A baby's funeral. I'd never been to one. Never been to one since. I was 17. Me and my cousins, Alex and Erich, actually didn't go to his actual funeral. I'm pretty sure children weren't allowed to go. And it's probably because of this: Mom came home with a picture of Mary holding Ben and I asked if he was dead when this was taken, because he looked odd in it, which she replied 'yes.' Even now, I cannot imagine touching what was once living that's been dead for over a minute. Let alone holding. My mom also said everyone at the funeral got to hold his hand, which scared me again. But she said it wasn't cold, it was warm because everyone held it for so long. 9 months after his funeral, my dog Sadie, was put down and I remember her going rigid while I held and petted her paw... okay I'm tearing up, moving on.
Ben's burial was so different. First it was a LONG way away and that cemetery is probably over a thousand acres in area. We waited in our cars for a long time. And then we got out and walked to his site. From what I remember seeing, there weren't other plots around him. (Mary and her husband have... MONEY to say the least) And me and my cousins stood in the back while these flying ants were EVERYWHERE. Trying to be respectful yet terrified of the attacking bugs was hard to balance. It was normal, like a funeral, except people kept talking about how hard, unbelievable and tragic it is for God to take away a baby. When they brought his casket over........... oh my god. It was literally two feet long. Probably less.
I started crying. The few funerals I'd been to before Ben's dealt with adults, namely old adults. It blew me away. Then, people would go up, single file and say something to Mary and Ben and then get out of the way for everyone else. I was with Alex and the closer we got to Mary and Ben, the more I cried and something so shocking happened that I still almost can't believe it happened. Alex cried. Alex was 15 at that time, almost 16. Alex is tough. He doesn't speak, especially to girls. I think I'm the only exception to that. I hadn't ever seen him cry about something that was sad (he used to make fun of me when I'd cry at a sad part during a movie.) So we said stuff to Mary, mumbling through it all and left. I don't remember anything that we talked about. Then there was a celebration of life (have these 'parties' always existed after funerals? Because I don't remember great-grandma having one when I was 7, and I've only heard of them recently) That was cool, mainly because us kids played with Max the whole time.
Then it was a few days later. My mom was thinking of Ben and she was watering the plants outside. And this butterfly came and landed on her. And she swished it away, but it came back. It kept coming back. My mom told my aunt and she started having butterfly experiences too. Both had strange ones where the butterfly would come and sit for a while on them. Or just fly around, especially when they thought about Ben. So, my aunt told Mary about it over the phone saying,
"Mary, we think Ben communicates as a butterfly." Mary started bawling on the phone. My aunt asked what was wrong.
"Just when you said that, a butterfly came and landed on the window."
Thus, Ben inhabits every butterfly that flies around Cincinnati. And every time we see one (which is every day, since my mom planted butterfly bushes after the encounter) we say 'hi' to Ben. Pretty cool huh! God still kinda sucks for making Ben go through all that crap though. He has some 'splainin' to do. RIP Baby Ben!!!