From Loss comes the Golden Sky

Pushing up to my tippy toes, I stretch out my arm reaching just a little further. Only an inch more and that’s all it will take to make the big silver, shiny thing mine. I had watched grandma pour drinks from it all morning long. Everyone had been drinking from it, and I was thirsty.

The thing was, no one was paying any attention to me. The entire family was huddled in
hushed tears together in the family room. I could see them if I wandered around the counter to check, but I didn’t care to bother them now. I knew they were sad. My brother died today.

I can almost reach the big shiny thing and they will all be so impressed and proud of me when they see how I poured my own drink.

My fingers flick at the side of the slick surface, slowly moving it closer in my direction. But uneven tiles halt its progress, jolting it forward too quick for my little hands to respond. Falling with a crash the lid explodes in a rush of fiery liquid.

Honestly, the moments when the coffee splashed across my body have been blocked from my mind. I was only two. But I still harbor hazy memories of my father sweeping me into his arms, my mother and grandmother nearby.

The ambulance ride, packed heavily in ice with my father at my side is a strong imprint. It registers right up there with reaching for that giant coffee maker and my mother coming home from the hospital without my brother. It was never my intention that day to compound the situation for my mother or busy my father by giving him something else to do besides sit and grieve. But I was a toddler – what did I know?

I don’t share this story with you to elicit pity or sadness. No, I am fine – don’t worry about me. If anything that event gave me an extremely thick under coating. It made me stronger as I grew older. Some might call it scarred, but I don’t think that’s really what I am. In some odd way I’m enriched from the experience.

The real reason I shared this story today is because like so many other babies, my brother
didn’t see more than a few days of life. It reminds me of my friend Elisa’s story regarding her son Zeke. AND that is the real reason my mind wandered down this path. Elisa’s journal about her son’s life is about to hit the stands this week on November 18th! How great is that?! So now The Golden Sky will be available to help others in dealing with their pain and loss such as Elisa experienced, and my parents so very long ago.

In promoting the launch of this very special book I am participating in a large blogfest on
Thursday the 17th. All the participants will be honoring Zeke by dedicating a post to someone they have loved and lost. I will be writing about my sister Kristi. If you would like to participate in this event and help promote the launch of this extraordinary book head over to Elisa’s blog now and sign up for this Thursday. Click on The Golden Sky picture and it will whisk you off directly to your intended destination. The more the merrier!

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About Debra Kristi

Debra Kristi is a mother, an author, a Pinterest addict, and sometimes DIY home decorator. Hang with her to organize your everyday and leave your mind open to the fantastical.
This entry was posted in Dealing with Loss, Life and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

35 Responses to From Loss comes the Golden Sky

  1. Elisa says:

    You are such a profoundly talented writer. I felt every word in this. I’m going to send this post to my family. Thank you so much.
    -Elisa

    • Debra Kristi says:

      Elisa, I am touched that you want to share this with your family. I couldn’t think of a more appropriate way to spread the word about your up-coming event. And I really wanted to hype the launch of your book. So there you have it. From the boys losses comes something good that others can learn from. Bless you Elisa.

  2. Debra,

    You are a writer of exceptional talent, because you own a kind heart and the courage to let your heart speak.

    I understand the reason you added this post’s final three paragraphs, but I want to read more about what that toddler knew. She did know about sadness, grief and love; and she hasn’t forgotten.

  3. mgmillerbooks says:

    I can only echo Elisa and Anthony. Very moving post, and your heart shows right through.

  4. Krystal Wade says:

    Sounds like a great thing to promote! Will have a look later. Lots of dance practice today.

  5. Beautiful post, Debra. Full of heart and caring, just like you. Thank you.

  6. Debra Kristi says:

    Thank you, everyone! I can’t tell you how much your kind words mean to me. I find it rather remarkable that I remember much at all from the age of two. I think it’s only because they were such dramatic events that they imprinted so deeply. I am not so sure I could continue that story for you Anthony. Not without help from a memory regression therapist.

  7. Debra,
    What a wonderful post, I guess it just is the season to talk about these things. It reminds of the phrase, “what doesn’t kill me, makes me tougher.” My other, older sister died when I was 17 and as a result of dealing with death at such an early age, it does make you look at life differently and it just reminds me to treasure the moments we have with each other. Take care, dear on.

    • Debra Kristi says:

      Thank you, Rachel. Death does have a funny way of changing the way you look at life, doesn’t it? When Kristi died, like you, I also made changes in my life. The biggest one being that of my career. I realized that life really was too short, and I didn’t want to spend as much time as I was on the job. Much less, a job I didn’t care for. And I too learned how important it is to treasure those moments with the ones you love. Thank you for stopping in.

  8. Hi Debra,

    What a kind gesture you’ve made for a very dear friend. Many of us have lost parents, but to loose a child has got to be the worst of tragedies. One that can never leave you, a festering open wound. I wish your friend much success with her new book and thank you for sharing your own personal loss. It’s strange how certain memories will never let go making us vulnerable. But in turn, that just makes us more sensitive to others and caring for their needs.

    Beautiful post Debra. Written straight from your heart. 🙂

    • Debra Kristi says:

      Thank you, Karen. As a parent, I can’t imagine the loss of a child. I have only witnessed it from the outside. I appreciate you stopping in. I hope to post something more pink pill worthy in the future. .

  9. gingercalem says:

    Oh, thank you for sharing your heart. I just want to go back in time and hug your little 2 year old self … and push the coffee pot out of the way too. 🙂

  10. Hard to believe the timing on this. I’ve been planning to do a blog for December 12th, but actually wrote it last night because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle tackling it on the actual ‘anniversary.’ I’d already written a blog on July 28th (what would have been my oldest daughter’s birthday), but wanted to acknowledge it again when the first year had passed.

    It’s really hard losing people you love, but it’s a lot different when it’s one of your kids. And she wasn’t my first. Add to that a couple of miscarriages, a stillborn daughter, and a son who died when he was a few hours old and I have a lot more experience with this subject than anyone I know. Not a distinction I enjoy having. 😦

    • Debra Kristi says:

      Kristy, I am sorry to hear that you have had to endure so much loss. I know it seems so terribly unfair at times. But, I honestly believe in what Rachel said, “what doesn’t kill (us), makes (us) stronger.” Know that you always have support with this group. I saw that you joined Thursday’s Blogfest. I am glad you join us in this extraordinary event. I look forward to reading your tribute.

      • Thanks, Debra. You’re right that it does seem unfair sometimes, but no one ever guaranteed us that life would be. It doesn’t mean you have to like the things that happen, but you do have only two choices…deal with it (get stronger) or let it kill you (emotionally, if not literally). I think I’m strong enough now though. I’m at the point, though, where I could give Arnold Schwarzenegger a run for his money… 🙂

        I’ll have to check out the other blogs before I post mine. There is a bit of a tribute to her at the end, but it was mostly a blog from the perspective on losing a child. Maybe I’ll see what else I can come up with between now and Thursday. 🙂

        • Debra Kristi says:

          I agree Kristy, life was not meant to be fair. I am okay with that. It has only made my faith stronger. Although, I have not had to deal with the loss of a child as have you, or my mother. I know that is harder than what I have endured.

          As for the Blogfest, I have no idea what others will be posting. I have written mine twice and have not been happy. I guess I will be going for round three tonight. But I imagine what you already have written would be appropriate.

  11. Thank you for sharing this, Debra and for your support of Elisa (beautiful name!). What a fantastic way to honor your brother and her Zeke. Just another one of the many reasons I’m so blessed to have found you here in the blogosphere. You are such a remarkable woman.

  12. It is difficult to lose a loved one, even more so that the loved one is a child. Thank you for sharing these special events, Debra.

  13. artistlynne says:

    WOW! I guess we never realize what a toddler could be thinking at a time like that. We adults are too caught up in our own emotions. Thanks for sharing my dear! xoxo

  14. Lynette says:

    To have come through and share your story, both you and your friend, that’s strength. Bless you both.

    • Debra Kristi says:

      I think what Elisa is doing far out shines my little story, but I thank you from both of us. ❤ Your kind words are very much appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to stop and comment.

  15. Oh wow, Debra! Moved me to tears, really. Beautifully written, and emotionally evocative.

  16. Beautiful and very touching post, Debra. It is so difficult to deal with a loss of a loved one, especially when it is a child. I can’t imagine how terrible life would be if I ever had to face that.

  17. Such an inspiring, heartfelt post, Debra! You touch on heavy topics with such grace and respect.

  18. What a beautiful, moving post, Debra. We’ve all experienced grief, but I don’t think many of us can share it like you have here.

  19. Julie says:

    This is an incredible post. It truly amazes me what the human spirit can endure. By writing and sharing your story, you help others cope with their own. Thank you for your brave words. Elisa’s blogfest will most likely move many people toward healing.

  20. Debra Kristi says:

    Thank you so much for your wonderful words and compliment. I truly appreciate you taking the time to stop in here for the visit.

  21. Tammy says:

    Thank you for sharing this – while so many have said it, it bears repeating you have a powerful way with words 🙂

  22. This post is so moving. How awful for your parents to lose your brother and then see you suffer like that. Losing a child is a parent’s worst nightmare. I hope The Golden Sky is a huge success. There are so many people who can relate to this.

  23. Debra Kristi says:

    Thank you so much Tammy and Lynn. I really do appreciate it. I too hope the book is a great success.

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