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Green Eggs And Ham For Aidan

I recently drove with a friend to Virginia Beach to visit the gravesite of her son. Her son lived for four and a half hours. He was born and died on December 27th, 2002.  We arrived  Friday night at her in-laws to home-made chicken soup and fresh biscuits. Saturday morning we drove to the cemetery before sunrise. We arrived there as the sun was coming up. We found his stone next to the empty plot for his great-grandmother, Granna, who lives a few miles away, on the same street  she raised her four children. Her husband died five years ago and is in the ground waiting for her.

I read Psalm 5 as the sun came up. My friend and I prayed for each other. Then I read Green Eggs and Ham as we sat beside the grave of her son Aidan. We pulled the grass from around the stone that had grown over the name. We wiped it clean of dust with water from our water bottles and a bandana we had in the car.

I have had four miscarriages. I have cried over the loss of a life that stopped growing at eight weeks. I have never held a dying child in my arms. I have never carried a child to term that died after it took its first breath.  I will never know the depth of pain that my friend has experienced. I met my friend a year ago when I moved to Pennsylvania. I can not stop my friends grief, but I can visit her first child’s grave and wash his gravestone and read him Green Eggs and Ham.



About Pamela Hodges

I write slice of life stories to help you know you are loved, valuable and worthy just as you are. I am a writer, an artist, and a cleaner of seven litter boxes. I live in Pennsylvania with one husband, four cats, one dog and two birds.

You are an artist. Yes, you are. Really.

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Get the FREE illustrated, sort of a comic book, “You Are An Artist.” Believe in yourself and your ability to draw. xo Pamela

  • Pam,
    I will pray for both you and your friend. I am sorry to hear about the struggles you both have had. I have also had miscarriages before…recovering and healing physically was easy compared to the mental recovery and healing which took a lot longer…if you ever want to chat or talk just email.
    Thinking of you both,

    • Pamela Hodges

      Amy, thank you for your prayers. I pray for your loss. Thank you for your support, your kindness means a lot.

  • I have friends and friends who are grandparents that have experienced this kind of loss and all of them speak of friends like you who have stood by them at grave sides, sent cards at “birthdays,” and other celebrations or events that are reminders of their loss.
    My niece recently had a miscarriage and being able to write to her from a heart that has known that pain felt good for me, and she felt gifted just like your friend. Words and presence are the simplest and best offerings of our souls.

    • Pamela Hodges

      I am sorry your heart has known the pain of miscarriage. I pray you and your niece feel comforted. Words can be very healing. Thank you.

  • What a wonderful gift to your friend.

  • What a wonderful friend you are. Thanks so much for sharing your experience with us.

  • Peg D

    Just beautiful. I know your presence made a difference.

  • In May, I took my mother to the grave of her oldest son on the 20 year anniversary of his death. He would have been 60 this month. This loss of my big brother is painful, but I think you’re right, a mother who has held their child and then lost him bears an unimaginable pain. Even though my Mom had him for almost 40 years, it wasn’t enough. Even though your friend had her son for only 4 hours, he belongs to her, always.
    Your own losses have given you a true empathy for your friend. Your act was a gift to her. Your words are a gift to the rest of us.

    • Pamela Hodges

      I am sorry your big brother died. Sending you two hugs, one for you and one for your mommy.

  • What a gift…

  • It’s hard for those of us who haven’t experienced the loss of a child to know how to support those who have. You’ve expressed the quiet supportive friendship you share quite clearly.

  • Michelle

    Goosebumps and a tear. You are a supportive friend. Just being there is what mattered most.

  • Your gift of friendship matters. So does the gift your friend gives you in letting you share in this experience. The best part for me was the reading of Green Eggs and Ham, such a simple yet meaningful gesture honoring the child Aidan. Thanks for sharing.

  • Your quiet actions are so powerful. Your words so complex. Thank you for sharing with us.

  • You are such a kind friend, with such a full heart. Thank you for describing such a tender moment.

  • writekimwrite

    Our journey through this life can be difficult. Standing by each other is so important. I believe it anchors us and tells us we are not alone. This is a reminder for me to look for ways to do this in my realm. I want to be this kind of blessing!

  • I don’t believe that years can change the hurt, I pray that your friend is healing as best she can and that though she mourns the loss, she can anticipate the reunion.. Thanks for being there for her.

  • I am sorry for your grief. I am sure your friend appreciated your support and friendship.

  • Jessica Whitmore

    Thank you! I remember when you asked me if we could go together to visit Aidan. I thought, “No one has ever asked me that before.” Thank you for a wonderful refreshing weekend!

    • Pamela Hodges

      You are very welcome. Thank you for sharing your family and your son with me.

  • True friendship.

  • No words.