07 March 2011


On Friday, it was five months since he died. Five months. The description of how much time has passed between that day and everything that came after seems rather arbitrary. If you told me it had been five minutes, or if you told me it had been nine years, I would have believed you either way.

On Friday, I looked at the pictures of him. I remembered his birth, his warmth, and his sweet new baby scent. I remembered stroking his hair, kissing his forehead, and nibbling on his toes. I remembered the way his skin changed when he died, turning dark and dusky as life gave way to death and I held the body that, just over two weeks prior, had been safely nestled in mine. I called my Mom from my office that day, voice cracking. I don't understand. I just don't get it. How did this happen?

And I fell apart again.
* * *

I get e-mails telling me about how Ewan's story inspired a positive change, a reconciliation. I hear about how he saved a life. These things are good and I never tire of hearing them, but there is bitter along with the sweet. These good things are born of his death and our loss.

* * *

We gave Ewan the middle name "Eliezer" after Abraham's servant in Genesis. In Chapter 24, Eliezer is sent on an urgent errand for his master Abraham: to find a wife for his son, Isaac. Eliezer journeys on camelback to Mesopotamia, to the city of Nahor where he found Rebekah, the one who would become Isaac's wife. The journey demonstrates profound faith and tremendous humility, qualities in Eliezer that we admired enough to give the same name to our son.

Eliezer's journey from the side of his master to the well where he found Rebekah was sixteen days. Sixteen days is also the length of Ewan's journey here on earth.

And as Eliezer was to depart Nahor to return to his master with Rebekah, he said: "Do not delay me. The LORD has made my mission successful. Now let me go back to my master." (Gen. 24:56)

And so he did. And so did Ewan.