October is Infant and Pregnancy Awareness Month. My beautiful daughter organized a community walk in remembrance of angel babies. She did a wonderful job, with a nice turnout of friends and family far and near thankful for the support and encouragement. She thoughtfully organized the event with small, but meaningful details.

I tried to support from afar...I fear I fell short of the mark with my meager efforts. I've read widely and am familiar with symbolic actions to release guilt, anger, grief or any crippling emotion, and I've always felt awkward enacting any such ritual. My release has always been in word more than actions. So, here is my attempt to capture the day; our balloon release for Baby Kenneth Michael Maurer.

Release

Pink and blue globes
Released with full hearts
Ascending slowly at first
Into the pure blue sky
Ribbon tail fluttering behind
Lifting our grief
As they float ever higher
They begin to race
And bump together joyously
Like children playing
A lightness envelopes
A peace alights
Upon us

Doorbell

My last visit to New York was a reluctant one. I wasn't sure whether I could make a difference, whether I was needed. I knew I must go, to just be there for my daughter. My own old feelings of not belonging, being on the outside, raised an ugly head. But this wasn't about me, so I pushed the feelings aside although I fought them the whole while there. I went to stand behind my daughter, just a presence for her to fall back on if needed. I quietly moved on the edge of grief, helping where I could, when and if needed. The doorbell rang constantly; friends with food in their hands and tears in their eyes. 

Now, the youngest grandchild rings the doorbell. He goes into the garage for whatever reason and becomes locked out; unable to open the door back into the house. Clad only in boots, no coat he scurries out and around the house to ring the doorbell. A different, happier surprise at the door. Both a blessing in the starkness of life.