Remember Me Bubblehead!

"Bubblehead" people drawing circa 2000

In my last post, “A Beautiful Tapestry of Inadequacies”, I shared a great deal of my current family struggles and my very deep rooted self-doubts as a parent. Although  it was healing to put the words to paper, it has also been a catalyst  which calls me to deeper reflection as I ponder what my next moves will be with my son.

I have not felt an urge to write since that post. What I have been doing is spending a lot of time thinking back to the days when my son was younger.  There was a period when he was much younger that I dabbled in writing. There were no blogs back then. At least none that I remember. My avenue of choice to see my reflections in print was our local diocesan newspaper, “The Record.”  During this time they had a supplemental spirituality  section to their newspaper which encouraged anyone to submit contributions.   I remembered having two articles published. One was a reflection called “Known by the Scars. The other was about my son and an art project he did at pre-school. It was titled “Soda Pop and Light Bulbs” This was the one I wanted to find.  That was the one  I  had convinced myself I needed to find.

Now, you have to remember this was the days of floppy disks and really slow computers. I no longer have either the computer or the floppy that the articles were saved. I kept a hard copy of the newspaper. I know that I have saved them...somewhere.   And this past week, I have searched and searched and cannot find either of them.

I needed to read that story again.  I needed to be taken back to a time when our relationship was positive and encouraging.  And, I wanted to share that story with you.  It was a reflection about a simple art project my son had brought home. I still remember how moved I was by what he had done and what he had said when I asked him to tell me more about  the picture. I still remember the premise behind the reflection. But I do not remember enough to re-create it for this blog.

So I searched.

I found so many of the remnants of our past lives.    Just today I looked in some new places. In one drawer I found a 1998 calendar filled with a year of appointments and events of our former lives as a family. Doctor appointments. Birthday parties. All those glorious ordinary things that make up and fill the days of our lives.

I found birthday cards galore from most of my son's younger birthdays. Artwork with some “bubblehead” people my son had drawn. A copy of the contract from the grave site where my husband was buried. Reminder after reminder of our families past. But no article and piece of artwork with the “Soda Pop and Light Bulbs” that I was so certain I had saved. My frustrations were growing and the tears were starting to well-up in my eyes.

But suddenly I spotted what looked to be a yellowed copy of folded newspaper. It looked like it could be from the publication I was looking for. It was! It was from “The Record.”  " This is one of them" I said to myself.   Fingers crossed!  I pray it's the one I wanted.

It was neither one.

Because apparently, I had a third article published that I had completely forgotten about. And as I read it the tears didn't just well up, they poured out.

---

Remember Me*

One day my five-year-old son was happily drawing little pictures and cutting them out to give to me. His cute little “bubblehead” people (as I call them) with stick arms and legs were a particular favorite of his to draw. Skies and suns were also becoming the latest rage for him. So, when he handed me the latest “Bubblehead” person standing beneath a sunny sky, I responded with accolades and gratitude. Like all the great Moms before me I sung the praises of his artistic abilities and took a chance and said, “Look! It's a picture of you!”

Then proudly smiling he said to me, “Yep! Mom you need to keep it forever.”

I responded, “I will honey.”

To which he responded in all seriousness “No Mom. You need to keep it forever to remember me. So you and Dad will have something to always remember me when I die.”

I felt as if my heart would stop. The mere thought of something happening to my child was enough to send a floodgate of tears to the very tips of my eyes. Trying not to lose all control I responded, “yes honey, I will keep it forever and ever to remember you by. I promise.” This seemed to appease him and he went back to drawing his sunny skies and “bubblehead” people.

“Do this in remembrance of me.”    We hear those words each time we are present at Mass. At the Last Supper, as Jesus broke bread and shared wine, he asked his disciples to do this in remembrance of Him. His disciples followed those instructions and we now have that memory imprinted into the hearts of every one of us when we take of His Body and Blood. What a simple yet profound miracle we are granted the privilege to take part in: We remember.

God placed that article in my hands today. For He knew that I so desperately need to be reminded how much my son has inspired me and still inspires me.   

No matter what happens next. 

Cyndi 
by Cyndi Marlow
 *The "Remember Me" article appeared in “Sacred Rhythms” a spirituality supplement to "The Record" Newspaper on March 7, 2002.