Letter from Grandma

I had to share this beautiful email from your Grandma P.

I wanted to tell you of a little project I’m working on. I was cleaning out my desk a few weeks ago and I found a little frame in the 18^th century style that I’d been planning on using for something or other. So I am doing a tiny little life-sized Isaac footprint to go in it, with your initials and Chip’s and the date. I brought his little print in to work and enlarged it so I could make a pattern.

Also,

I made our two quilts during the last winter Olympics 2006, deliberately. I wanted something that will always be easy for me to remember when I made them. So I’m making Isaac’s little memorial quilt during THESE winter Olympics, which I thought made a nice “circle”.

Your grandmother loves you a lot, little boy.

Attack of the Killer Fetuses (Feti?)

You would not believe how many killer fetus movies there are on Netflix. Really, I was not aware that this was an entire subgenre of horror. But here we are sitting down to the 2008 film (I use the term "film" loosely) It's Alive. So far it's about a woman who was six months pregnant when she took part in some kind of science-y study and her baby became full term literally in one day and was born. I'm gathering that he's aging at an unnaturally fast rate, the more of the movie I watch. At any rate, the upshot is the baby killed all the doctors in the delivery room.

Have these people ever seen any kind of baby, ever?

Also in the queue is It's Alive from 1974 (another killer newborn), Pro-Life (a killer aborted fetus), and Dumpster Baby, which I can't quite figure out what the hell it's about. Don't know what the grief counselors would say about our killer-fetus film-festival, but Daddy and I both find this funny as hell. Of course, the day we had the second miscarriage, we watched Rosemary's Baby (woman gives birth to Satan's baby) in honor of the occasion.

Guess I'm a little dark tonight. But not in a bad way. Just in a cheesy-horror-movie kind of way. I'm feeling gleefully defiant in watching these truly absurd flicks.

(Seriously, movie? Seriously?)

(Late Edit: there are two sequels to the original It's Alive! I can hardly wait!)

Facebook Meme & Reiki

Silly little thing. There's a facebook meme going on, where you are supposed to look up your own name on Urbandictionary.com and post the meaning. (By the way, if you have internet access up there, Mommy and Daddy probably would rather you not spend much time on that site; it's kind of messed up.)

I looked up your name and it made me smile:

Isaac: means "One who makes me laugh" or "laughter". The funniest guy who is sweet and charming. Knows how to lighten the mood. Is one who brings peace and others together. A miracle birth. Are you feeling down? What you need is an Isaac.

That's for sure. You've certainly brought others together in our life; I mean, I talk to your Grandpa W and your Uncle C now, and that hasn't really happened in more than ten years (in fact, with Grandpa W, it pretty much has never happened before). You've opened me up to so many precious friendships. You've brought so much to Daddy and I. Definitely a miracle birth.

~*~*~*~

A friend of mine is learning Reiki and she asked if she could practice on me. We've put a lot of focus on calling forth good eggs and healthy babies. I admit that it is a whole different thing for your pragmatic, skeptical, scientific-method-worshiping Mommy. But the experience was really amazing. I completely relaxed and was actually able to meditate--which is pretty hard for me to do (Mommy is also easily distracted by bright colors and shiny things). It was almost like lucid dreaming.

And in that dream-like place inside of me I could see you. Little flashes of the life you aren't really going to live. I saw you as a normal, beautiful little baby. I saw you toddling around in red overalls; serious little round face with a furrowed brow with wispy straw-colored hair, determinedly stomping around. I saw you as a little boy. Playing baseball, oddly enough. Teeth a little to big for your face, like mine were when I was eight. Longish light brown hair sticking out of a yellow baseball cap. I felt like you were there; felt your presence in a way I usually just don't, not since the night Daddy and I got married.

After it was over, as I was lying there relaxing, I could see what almost looked like dark curtains parting. Your Daddy was standing there holding out his hand to me. I took his hand and then all of a sudden I was completely awake (though still extremely relaxed.) It felt like I'd been able to visit with you, but your Daddy was there, ready to call me back home.

I don't know. It's hard to put it into words. Most of the thoughts I have that are...spiritual? I guess? They're in pictures. And a thousand words can't do them justice.