Aaron

Well, in a way, this is a memory that was brought up by David Steiner’s death. I was trying to think about when I went through a similar trauma in my family. I mentioned to  David’s fiance that I had gone through similar experience. Well, Aaron came to mind. Over 18 years ago, Aaron should have been born. But instead, I have some semi-dormant memories of that time. Aaron should have been our second grandchild and the son of Linda and Jeff. Linda had been taking wonderful care of herself. She did everything the doctors told her to do. One day (I’m not sure) in October, 1989, I came home and looked at the answering machine. We had gotten a call from Philadelphia Hospital. There was no message. No texting. No cell phones. I wondered what I should do. Howard and Jim were on their way home from work at Howard Displays. We were due to go to my niece, Sarah Cole’s birthday party. I called the hospital and asked whether there was a Linda Jacobs registered. There was and they put me right through to Linda. She said, “Mom, the baby died. I wasn’t feeling movement on Friday and called the doctor. She listened and there was no heartbeat.” I was at a loss for words. I don’t know what I did say, but I hung up and waited for Jim and Howard to get home. The three of us sat at the kitchen table and Jim said, “Mom, you should go there.” I called Sarah’s mom and told her, I wouldn’t be there, but Jim and Howard would. So reservations were made. On the plane I was crying and luckily had a very nice person next to me, who made me feel a little better.

In Philadelphia, Jeff met me and we went to the hospital. I had no idea what would happen next. What Linda hadn’t said is that she was waiting to deliver the baby. So we spent all night sitting there, the three of us. Waiting. There was a monitor with two lines. One was flat and the other was Linda’s heartbeat. All night we waited. Finally, this beautiful baby boy was delivered with gorgeous brown hair. The only thing missing was the cry. The baby was cleaned off and wrapped like any other newborn. First Jeff held him. Then I did and last, Linda held him. She held him a long time. Finally, I said, “I think maybe we should call the nurse.” So we did. I think we left the hospital that afternoon. Such a sad time. I remember Linda taking me to the airport. I hugged her, but it hurt because she had just delivered.

I came back to Chicago. I told my sister, Caryl. She had had several miscarriages. You could hear the sadness in her voice as she remembered. I told my friend, Shirley. She also had had a stillborn baby. Her loss was in 1968. Again the sadness came back. Howard doesn’t deal with death well. Once it has occurred, he doesn’t talk about the person again. So, I found a group, not sure how, of other people online who had gone through the same thing. This was, of course, before Facebook. I did use the Internet. This group helped me deal with the sadness. You don’t think of the family members that are going through this type of loss. But grandparents certainly feel for their child and the lost of the grandchild. I don’t know how to explain it, but I did have wonderful friends who helped.

Andy had been born on Steven’s birthday in September of that year. They are Jim and Lisa’s boys and our grandsons.  Andy and Aaron were supposed to grow up together. His very special birthday gift, Steven had said. “Just what I wanted for my birthday, a baby brother.” A ski trip had been planned for all three families to go to ski. We were going to watch the babies and the rest would ski. So we watched just Andy.

In February, there was a memorial service for Aaron. The Jacobs flew to Philadelphia where a tree was planted in memory of Aaron. Jeff read a beautiful poem. Linda just leaned on Jeff. The Rabbi said some words and I spoke. I remember, I began, “My friend Bingy told me not to cry, but I can’t stop.” Not sure what else was said. When we went out to eat before going to the airport, Steven said, “I really wanted to be a cousin.” We all started to cry. The waitress asked what was wrong, and we tried to tell her. Steven is a great cousin to Stirling and Finlay now. So he did get his chance.

I put all the letters from friends and family and messages from people on the Internet together and put them in a file. Linda and Jeff made a scrapbook. When Jeff’s mum, Marion, from England came to visit Linda and Jeff, I went to help take her around. She’s not a great driver anyway, and doesn’t drive in the US. Linda went back to being a lawyer and Jeff was working for Johnson Matthey. So Marion and I had lots of time to talk. We went to a diner and talked, had coffee and she smoked. For four hours we were there. The waitress was very nice and never did anything but give us more food and coffee and empty ashtrays. Then we went home and looked at the scrapbook and watched Schindler’s List. What a way, to spend a day!

So this is the story of Aaron and how we did get over our grief. However, those memories can be brought up so many many years later.

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