suit and tie

We did not commemorate Roxy’s death at the time with a ceremony. We did not have a funeral. We did not have a memorial. The theory at the time was that there was nothing for anyone to remember. Roxy had died before she made memories for anyone we might have invited. Most of the folks wouldn’t have even seen her. We surmised the ceremony would have been to support us, and we felt nothing like planning anything. We felt like lying on our backs. We felt like lying down until we didn’t exist. Until nothing at all existed. In short, at the time, it was easier not to.

I continue to address the devastating mental and emotional fallout from losing Roxy, and will until I die I’m sure. During a recent session addressing my ongoing severe anxiety issues, my psychiatrist said “it’s interesting that you felt such a deep connection to Roxy, considering you never got to really know her.” My blood quickened and heated at this. My eyes narrowed. I informed him that love had poured into and out of me the moment my first child, Mason, was born, right at his first cry. It was like a river, and that river didn't wait until we "got to know each other." That same river washed all over me when Roxy didn’t cry, I told him. I do know her. I know her terribly, terribly well.

As the calendars have changed numbers but continued to provide little actual space between our now and our then, the fact that we didn’t have some sort of real ceremony for Roxy bothers me. It is a regret. This song is about her death, and about our ascent to the maternity ward where Terra would deliver her. It is also about this regret that we never acknowledged to the world in a ceremonial way that we lost a daughter. We lost someone we knew and know deep in our marrow. My blood knows her. My skin. I was wearing a tshirt when I met her. I should have worn a suit and tie.

To the second floor we climb
Down a fluorescent hallway we glide
And I should have worn a suit and tie
Yeah I should have worn a suit and tie
Jenny said she’d walk us down
She fumbled with her silver bracelet
And I could not quite hear the sound
And I could not quite picture us making it
And there’s only so much time
Yeah there’s only so much left
Sometimes love is all you get
I asked a doctor where to stand
What should I do with my hands?
Well my baby never cries
And I should have worn a suit and tie
And there’s only so much time
Yeah there’s only so much left
Sometimes love is all you get
Sometimes love is all you get

Did you have a memorial service or some sort of ceremony for your child? If not, is that something you regret?