The shelf on which you can see a copy of The Little Red Caboose is the space they gave us. Which is why we haven't yet donated multiple copies of each book.
Here's a closer picture of "the Kerian bookshelf."
And here's a picture of one of the books opened to the front where we put the labels with Kerian's photograph.
It was all so real again, once the elevator doors opened up to the PICU floor, and we saw the bright lights in the hallways leading to softly-lit hospital rooms, heard the humming, beeping and buzzing of medical equipment, and smelled the stench of sanitation.
All at once it was strange, and sad, and therapeutic, to look into that code room, at the very bed where our Kerian had been, all hooked up to wires, and tubes, and the ECMO machine. Part of me expected to see him there--the part of me that will forever be cemented in that place in time. Instead, in Kerian's corner of the room we saw a little Asian baby, his parents sitting on either side of his bed. And in the other corner, which had been empty during most of Kerian's stay, was a baby girl and her father. I felt my knees wobble, and at first I was light headed, but since the baby in Kerian's bed looked nothing like him, I felt a deep sense of relief. Neither baby was hooked up to a life support machine, and I felt hopeful for them, and for their parents.
As we spoke with the hospital staff, we learned that our donation, though smaller than that which we had originally planned, was indeed timely and welcomed. One staff member shared with us that the day before our donation, a father with a child on the PICU floor lamented that he was tired of reading the same three books to his baby. We were thrilled that our donation came the very next day so that he could begin to read our books to his child.
I expected to feel lighter, and more free for having made that donation. I can't say that that was the case. It didn't ease my burden, and it didn't take away my pain for having lost my innocent, and beloved boy. But it did feel good, so very good, to know that through those books that we read to Kerian to let him know we were there and that we loved him, other parents can do the same, and that this intimate sort of parenting can continue. The PICU is not fun--for us, it was part of our worst nightmare. I hope with all my heart that the parents who are led to those books will get the happy ending we were not given. I hope that by reading those stories to their children, they will all be given just a little bit of sunshine at a time when life can feel dark and ominous. The books we chose tell stories of hope and love, and emphasize the sweet innocence of childhood. Here is a list of the books we donated:
The Complete Tales of Winnie-the-Pooh, by A.A. Milne
A Beatrix Potter Treasury, by Beatrix Potter
Wherever You Are: My Love Will Find You, by Nancy Tillman
On the Night You Were Born, by Nancy Tillman
The Little Red Caboose, by Marian Potter
The Little Engine That Could, by Watty Piper
Guess How Much I Love You, by Sam McBratney
The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Tumford the Terrible, by Nancy Tillman
The Crown on Your Head, by Nancy Tillman
Owl Moon, by Jane Yolen
This is not the end of our donation. Due to limited space, our initial donation was also limited. There is a remodel of the PICU floor coming up and we have been assured that an entire bookshelf is in the works. We are going to donate multiples of each book, as well as other inspiring and loving children's books as we come across titles that we think we would have enjoyed reading to Kerian.
My husband and I want to express our deepest, most humble gratitude to those of you who made donations to our cause. Please know that we have not yet spent all of the donations, but we do promise that every last penny of them will be spent on books for Kerian's "library." I will continue to keep you posted here, on Remembering Kerian.
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