There are certain bridges in life that we walk alone. We take each step with full knowledge that we are loved, comforted, and will be met with hugs and kisses when we reach out destination, but the journey is we walk with only Spirit.
I experienced this twice: during the labor of my first and second child. As I reached transition, right before it’s time to push, I became aware that there were people all around me (with my first birth, second was unassisted at home), but that I was in a spiritually standing on a path faced with putting one foot in front of the other and despite my fears and concerns, the decision and will to keep going, keep breathing, and carry on, was mine to make.
No one would be able to birth these children, except me.
I recently realized that the journey into life is not the only time when a human being stands on this road. The journey to reconcile oneself with death lives in the same space.
On November 13, 2011 at 2:44 Pacific Time, two-year old Anaya Cassin-Poots, in her mother’s words, “flew over the rainbow bridge” and passed from this world into the next.
Anaya first started showing symptoms of Infantile Krabbe Leukodystrophy when she was four months old. Since then, this little girl inspired hundreds of thousands through a Facebook page called The Anaya Initiative.
Before we have children, we think we have fears. After our pieces of heaven incarnate our born, we quickly come to the conclusion that all we had were concerns, our entire life’s hope now exists within a beautiful mass of soft skin and giggles.
Less than a week ago, Anaya’s mother, Camara, her daddy, Brent, and her big sissy, Solara, kissed their angel and wished her journey mercies.
From her mother’s Healing Anaya blog:
“We were all huddled in the hospital bed, holding her beautiful body. Kissing her soft skin for the last time. Touching her hair, her cheeks. I kissed and kissed and cried. All the strength that had infused me during the two hours of the death struggle left me and I collapsed into my agony. The tears poured down my face and I sobbed. I gently cut a braid of her hair that I will always keep to remember her strength, her bravery and her incredible softness.
Oh my baby. Oh my baby. I’m going to miss you…”
Please give me the strength to carry on and do what I have to do.
I don’t believe death holds a candle to the fierce bonds of love between parents and children. If you want to witness this first hand, read the words of Anaya’s mother on her blog and on the Facebook page.
In honor of their daughter and sister, Anaya’s family is starting an organization called “A Tour to Save Babies” to the support the families of children diagnosed with Infantile Krabbe Leukodystrophy and raise awareness concerning newborn screening.
Details for the physical memorial service can be found below. An online memorial service where the masses who have been touched by this beautiful soul and her family will be announced soon.
Photos Courtesy of (and used with permission by): Jess Rae Photo
“If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we’re apart.. I’ll always be with you.” -Winnie the Pooh
About Bunmi Laditan
Bunmi is a mother, writer, and social media entrepreneur living in Montréal, Canada (by way of California). She has two girls ages 6 and almost 2.