Merav, 1978-2005
I had no idea. They tell you your life will change, that nothing will be the same. But what do they know? They don't know me. Actually, what they know and what I've learned is that the amount of love a baby girl can bring into the world is immeasurable, incalculable, infinite. The joy cannot be compared.
And so the loss. A girl at three should coo and hug and walk, and at three times three should add and dance and sing, and at three times that? Anything should be possible. But for Merav, none of these things happened.
Some people say that autistics retreat from the world because they sense too much, they become overloaded with the chaos of the world and simply shut it out. Did she live three times as fast as the otherwise would have?
We are lucky, those of us who are born, like Merav was, into a bottomless ocean of love. We, too are lucky, those of us whom Merav graced with her presence. It seems she had an old soul. And sometimes old souls connect, as hers did with Opa, and with R, and with her friend and caretaker Vance (a hero, a giant of a man, with a heart vast). Something happens - a spark, a recognition, a connection - invisible, palpable. The rabbi at the funeral said that all true gifts are complicated, and that was trebly true of Merav. She showed me, reminded me, that there are many ways to go through life, and that simplicity - ease - is not our birthright. She should have lived three times as long. She should have seen her parents and grandparents off to see the universe... instead, she precedes us. Perhaps she could show us no more here, that what she did teach us - speechlessly, eloquently - would need to suffice. Perhaps she'd suffered enough. I'm nevertheless confident that souls old and very young will be there, to help her and love her, in the universe.
And so the loss. A girl at three should coo and hug and walk, and at three times three should add and dance and sing, and at three times that? Anything should be possible. But for Merav, none of these things happened.
Some people say that autistics retreat from the world because they sense too much, they become overloaded with the chaos of the world and simply shut it out. Did she live three times as fast as the otherwise would have?
We are lucky, those of us who are born, like Merav was, into a bottomless ocean of love. We, too are lucky, those of us whom Merav graced with her presence. It seems she had an old soul. And sometimes old souls connect, as hers did with Opa, and with R, and with her friend and caretaker Vance (a hero, a giant of a man, with a heart vast). Something happens - a spark, a recognition, a connection - invisible, palpable. The rabbi at the funeral said that all true gifts are complicated, and that was trebly true of Merav. She showed me, reminded me, that there are many ways to go through life, and that simplicity - ease - is not our birthright. She should have lived three times as long. She should have seen her parents and grandparents off to see the universe... instead, she precedes us. Perhaps she could show us no more here, that what she did teach us - speechlessly, eloquently - would need to suffice. Perhaps she'd suffered enough. I'm nevertheless confident that souls old and very young will be there, to help her and love her, in the universe.