Two. Sarah.

Two.
by Sarah.

Two years
Since you died then were born;
Left then arrived;
Said hello after goodbye.

Two.

Two years since the glorious joy of carrying you in my belly;
Then holding your perfect beautiful yet lifeless body in my arms.
Two years since all the loving blissful expectation we put into growing you and awaiting your arrival,
Turned to unfathomable despair.

Two.

Two years of surviving as a mother, and a father,
Without their firstborn son.
An invisible mother and father,
Of a son that only a precious few remember.

Two.

You should be such a big boy now,
Laughing, talking, climbing, running, playing.
Saying NO.
The ‘terrible twos’ wouldn’t be so terrible.
We know terrible.

Two.

The arrival of your little brother,
Has filled us back up with joy.
Taught us to smile again,
To laugh and mean it.
And yet the sadness doesn’t go away,
The constant longing, in our still broken hearts,
Just missing
You
At
Two.

:::

about this piece.
Sarah describes her piece, "This poem reflects some of my thoughts as we move into our grief season, two years after our precious son died. I read this at our synagogue before we said kaddish."

about the poet.
Sarah describes her journey, "In August 2008, our first son, Ezra Malik passed away in his mama’s belly just weeks before he was due to be born." Sarah writes at Ezra's Space.

Remembering Ezra Malik today on his second birthday. Holding Sarah and David close.