Multimedia message

Multimedia message

Jen's first bloom.

Multimedia message

Thomas' first blooms.

Multimedia message

Multimedia message

First Blooms

Isabel's

 Her Daddy's

Random Thoughts

"Little One" is playing (learning) soccer now. I love watching him practice and play.

Starting to come to terms with the realization that my soul mate and best friend is truly gone.

The days are getting warmer, reminding me just how heat-intolerant I am.

My health is not cooperating with me.

I often think of all my blogger friends and wonder how they are.

Wondering if I'm really where I belong or if this is just a part of my journey and I need to move on to my next destination. Not metaphorically speaking but referring to my literal geographical location.

Missing my little girl so much.

Missing her Dad and Grandma too.

Surrounding myself with friends and still feeling so alone.

Grateful for all my children...living and not.

Often overwhelmed.

Smiling and sometimes even laughing again. Laughing feels foreign.

I watched a stretch limousine struggle to turn the corner in front of me. As I turned to be sure it cleared my car, I looked past it and saw a homeless man asleep on the sidewalk in a cubbyhole. Life can be so unfair.

Had a great time last night.

Quote from: Madea's Family Reunion--
Aunt Myrtle: "We had a love so strong.. that is just seemed like we were one. I would get ready to tell him something and he would open his mouth and say the very thing, that I was fixing to tell him. And then. there were those moments when I would lay my head on his chest just to listen to his heart beat. And then one night. I realized that his heart beat, matched mine. I have had an opportunity that few people ever get on this earth. God has blessed me to share time and space with a man that he designed himself just for me. I've not only been blessed.. I have been divinely favored.
 
I have indeed been divinely favored.

Road Trip

Florida Beach at sunset.

It's been a year. A year since he...

Isabel

My little girl would be nine. When she was born I thought my heart would burst I loved her so much. Her Dad and Grandma were in the room too. He felt the same for her and showed me the tender, loving care he gave her. Her Grandma beamed with pride. She cried as she held her beautiful granddaughter in her arms. They both thanked me for giving birth to her. I cradled my baby girl in my arms, everything was perfect, I thanked God for this experience.

Three hours and forty-five minutes later she took her last breath in my arms. Our hearts were broken. I was there for her first breath and her last. I spent every minute of her life with her. She knew only love and peace. I thanked God for this experience.

Ok, really? Really? What were they thinking?

October Again...

I can't believe she'll be nine this month. As I mourn her father, I haven't been as focused on my baby girl. Not that I don't miss her, I just haven't been drowning in the same waves of grief that seem to come lapping at me every October. Instead, I welcome the familiar waves as I look at the horizon afraid of the next month lurking in the depths of the angry water threatening to overtake me with a tidal wave of grief.

September. For the last eight years September has marked the coming of October. For me that meant the end of naively thinking that a pregnancy that has survived the first trimester equaled a take home baby. It meant the realization that you can go home from the hospital with nothing but a mother's empty, aching arms and a broken heart. After eighteen years of marriage it was our second pregnancy and the only one to survive the first trimester. Sometimes September is harder. I don't know why.

Two years ago with the death of my mother that changed. August was now the beginning of my constant sadness. At least I knew that at the end of October I would feel a renewed hope. I would be one year closer to being with her and holding her in my arms and never letting go. I would have hope because I survived another year of my heart aching so much that I couldn't imagine it beating for another full minute much less an hour or day.

November will be the first year anniversary of my husbands death. I feel like there is no end in sight, no bright light at the end of the tunnel, no silver lining. As I spiral down an endless, dark pit, I wonder if  I'll ever see the light of day again. I will. I know. It just doesn't feel like it right now. I still get through each day by convincing myself that he's not home yet or upstairs or outside. When I think about it too much my heart seems to spring countless leaks and struggles for every beat, it becomes so heavy. So, I wonder...What will November be like?

Rain & Flu

Another day of rain. We need it.

Now that I'm almost better and Little One seems completely better, his sisters all have it. I guess it has to make it's rounds, I just hope I'm not at the end of that round too.

My little one just lost both his front teeth! He looks so adorable I could just eat his little toothless self all up:) I call him my little vampiro.

I hate being this sick!

My Little One is sick. High fever, poor baby:(

Children & Grief

I was recently asked to review a book called "A Guide to Children and Grief." . The author of the book is Miri Rossitto, she's the owner of Valley of Life.

I was glad to discover that It's not a two thousand page report on the details of a child's every move after loss. However, it is informative, to the point, easy to understand (and I emphasize EASY) and has what I call quick reference charts to quickly find exactly what your looking for.

If you want a copy or just want to check it out you can find it here.

My Husband, My Daughter, My Mom

I miss him so much! I love him so much! There's not a day, an hour that goes by that my heart doesn't bleed for him. It just wants to stop beating. It truly believes that the realization of the permanency of the situation will prove fatal. We were supposed to grow old together...



She would be eight. Still, I can't picture her as more than a toddler. As I struggle to keep the memories clear and the smells vivid, still, the pain doesn't fade. Gratefully though, the pain is less often and the love burns strong and bright as ever.



She had innocence and gentleness, kindness and love. She was honest and sweet. All that, with the strength and courage of a lion. A tangible blessing.